A Crack In The Line
by Noritsu
Summary: After the hatch implodes, Desmond begins having visions of Charlie killing the Others. An alteration of the Chesmond Season 3 story thread including the Season 4 premiere. Mild cussing. Rated T for two death scenes. Story is finished.
1. Chapter 1

**Additional disclaimer:** I have never read the book "A Crack In The Line" so I am certain that this story has nothing to do with that book.

**LOST**

**A Crack In The Line**

Authoress: Noritsu

Disclaimer

I **do not** own the LOST characters, or the LOST universe.  
They are copyrighted and belong to Damon Lindelof, Carlton Cuse, Bad Robot, and ABC.  
The storyline, however, is mine. So, no pilfering, please. Thanks.

**TUN** Publishing Company

April, 2008

**T**he**U**sual**N**onsense

**Prologue**

If only he had known.

If only, as the white light glistened around him and the mad throng of the alarm sounded, he had known what inserting the key and turning it would do.

But Desmond didn't know. He only knew what Kelvin had told him, and he believed it to be the truth as fervently as he believed that this one act of bravery would probably not make up for all the years of cowardice and pity he'd wallowed in. They were all most likely headed straight for hell, in which case, he should have reassured Locke beforehand that he would hold a chair open for him at the gaming table.

Desmond uttered an "I love you" to Penny, stuck the key into the slot and turned it.

The white light grew brighter even as the sound of the alarm faded into a sort of monotone hum as if it were echoing down the length of an endless tunnel.

And everything changed…

xxxxxx

_(Every Man For Himself)_

**Chapter One**

Desmond threaded his way through the castaway camp until he came to where the Other was tied up. A frown creased his face as he studied the man's hands. As he'd feared, there was a golf club that had been pushed through the bonds. He turned and looked around for Charlie. His eyes settling on Claire's 'room', he noticed that Claire was standing, holding Aaron, her eyes fixed intently on something. He turned around to see where she was looking. Sure enough, Charlie and Hurley were headed in Sayid's direction.

Desmond walked over and knelt down behind the Other. "You won't be mindin' if I take this club for myself, yeah?" The Other couldn't answer as he'd also been gagged, and Desmond wriggled and twisted the club free from the bonds that held the man's hands. Then he walked over to the edge of camp and threw it into the thick, leafy foliage. Afterward, he circled around behind some trees so he'd have a better vantage point to see what was going to happen with Charlie and Hurley.

He watched them approach Sayid, and Hurley began to speak. Charlie bounced up and down on the balls of his feet and said little. At one point, Hurley turned and pointed in a particular direction, gesturing with his hands. Sayid nodded his head, folded up his maps, placed a rock on top of them and walked off with Hurley. Charlie stayed behind and watched them go. He looked around to see if anyone was paying him any mind. Then he bent down and fished under the table until he found what he was looking for. Casually, he put the battery in the crook of his elbow and placed his other hand on top of it.

Desmond stepped away from where he was standing and circled around the back of the camp so he could watch Charlie from a different direction. Charlie headed straight for Hurley's place and gathered up some wires he'd pilfered from who-knew-where, although Desmond suspected that they, too, came from Sayid's stash.

Making up his mind that he couldn't allow this to happen, he strode forward.

"So, watcha doin' there, brother?"

Charlie bobbled the battery and almost dropped it. He set it down on top of Hurley's excuse for a bed and looked up at Desmond.

"Um, nothing. It's…not anything you need to concern yourself with, mate."

Desmond nodded. "I see. That battery wouldn't happen to go with the golf club over there," he nodded his head in the direction of the Other, "would it?"

Charlie's expression turned apprehensive as he looked from the Other and back to Desmond. "Look, Desmond, I'm not doing anything that you need to become alarmed about if that's what you're thinking. Now, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't concern yourself with my business."

Again, Desmond nodded in understanding. "Of course. And that battery you just swiped. Is that something that Sayid shouldn't concern himself with?"

Charlie's face darkened slightly and he tightened the grip he still had on the wires he was holding. "Let's just say I'm conducting a little experiment, yeah? And I don't need your help, or your interference. Unless….you're feeling your loyalties are being a bit strained with your friend over there."

"Charlie…..is everything okay?"

Both men startled a bit at Claire's intrusion into the situation. "Desmond was just going on his way," Charlie said, with a grim smile. "Weren't you, _brother_?"

Instead of answering Charlie, Desmond turned to Claire. "You're not really going to let him go through with this, are you?"

To her credit, Claire managed to keep the look on her face in check. "I really don't know what you're talking about, Desmond," she said.

"Aye, aye….sure you don't. Well…..I guess I'll be on my way, then." He conjured up a small smile, inclined his head and walked off.

"What's with him?" Claire asked, after Desmond was out of earshot.

"I don't know," Charlie replied. "We need to find another hatch to stick him in."

lostlostlost

Desmond walked down the beach to where Sayid's makeshift living quarters were. Sayid still wasn't there and Des felt he was in a bit of a quandry as to what to do next. It was only a matter of time until Charlie discovered that the golf club had been removed. If Charlie was determined to go through with his little 'experiment' as he called it, he would simply go in search of another golf club.

He shook his head. Charlie was cooking up a recipe for disaster. He turned and studied the sky. He didn't really know for sure when the squall was coming. He only knew that he had to act as quickly as possible so his vision wouldn't come to pass. An image of the Other's still twitching and smoking corpse danced in front of his eyes and he squeezed them shut in an attempt to darken and blot out the image. After a while it faded, and he sighed, raised his line of sight, and saw someone farther down the beach hitting golf balls into the water. Desmond took off at a jog until he came close enough to recognize who it was.

"Excuse, me….um…." Desmond gestured helplessly with his hands.

The recipient of his attention smiled at him and finished the sentence. "Paolo."

"Right, Paolo. I'm Desmond." Des offered his hand and the man shook it. "Say, um… where did you come by those golf clubs if I might ask?"

Paolo lifted the club he was holding and twirled it casually. "The bag's over near Jack's tent. It's kind of mixed in with a bunch of other stuff on a pile."

"Right, right. Listen, brother…. If Charlie happens to come over here and asks you if he can borrow your club there, do me a favor and don't give it to him, yeah? It's kind of a long story, but he's a bit on the warpath with that Other that Locke and Sayid caught this morning."

Paolo nodded his head. "Yeah, sure. I'll hang on to it."

Desmond smiled before he departed. "Thanks, brother."

Des turned around and walked back to camp. To his relief, he came across Sayid who was now sitting at his table again studying his maps and making markings in certain places. Desmond walked up to him and cleared his throat to get Sayid's attention.

"Yes?" the Iraqi asked politely as he looked Des up and down, probably trying to gage why the scotsman had come to speak to him.

"You wouldn't have happened to notice that some wires have gone missing from your supplies, would you?"

Sayid's expression immediately changed to one of suspicion. "And how would you know if there were wires missing from my supplies?" he asked cautiously.

Desmond took a deep breath. "If you would be feeling inclined to be checking your supplies again, there's a possiblity you'll also notice that a battery's missing. And, perhaps, that battery just might be with Charlie." He paused. "Along with the wires of course." He paused again and pursed his lips. "And now, I need to be goin' to Jack's tent to get the golf clubs. They're metal you know. Good for conducting electricity, yeah?"

His gaze locked with Sayid's and he watched the Iraqi's expression change yet again. This time to one of someone who has just deciphered the coded message that was given him and, as a result, has come to a horrible conclusion.

Sayid hastily folded his maps again, slammed the rock down on top of them and took off at a fast clip. Desmond scratched behind his ear and looked around. He hadn't attracted anyone's attention yet. He strode away from Sayid's table as nonchalantly as possible and headed for Jack's tent.

By the time he got there, the conversation Sayid was having with Charlie was in full swing. Desmond strode past them, trying desperately to keep from looking pointedly at the two of them so he wouldn't give away the fact that it was him that had ratted Charlie out. He couldn't control his hearing, however, and the discussion between the two traveled over his way.

"And I'm telling you that that rubbish of him coming over here to see why the sky turned purple is just that – rubbish! You and I both know that he came over here to see if we were mounting a rescue mission to go get Jack."

"Be that as it may, Charlie, I am not going to stand back and watch you torture him. I – "

"It's not torture! Think of it as 'encouragement'. I'm only – "

"Encouragement? Charlie, listen to yourself! You can't – "

"It's only a little electrical charge! It's not like I'm strapping him to a bloody chair!"

"Charlie, give me the battery _now_."

"Dammit, Sayid – !"

"_Charlie! Now!_"

"It was Desmond, wasn't it? He's the one who told you."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Charlie. I was out of the area when I went with Hurley. Naturally, when I returned, I did a routine check to make sure nothing was missing. The most obvious conclusion was that you took the battery since you stayed behind and didn't come with us."

"Of course. _Naturally_. Here's your bloody damn battery."

"And that reminds me. I want the wires back, too."

Silence.

"You think that he's just going to sit around here 'til Jack comes back and not attempt to escape? And even if he doesn't, what makes you think that Jack will get any more out of him than you and Locke did?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I don't want to find any more of my supplies going missing, Charlie. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I _understand_."

And with that, the conversation came to an angry end. Desmond's muscles tensed even more than they already were, if that was even possible, as he waited to see if Charlie would come over his way to confront him about the battery. He wanted to turn around and give Sayid a look of thanks, but he didn't dare. When he realized that Charlie was gone and he was safe for now, he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He shoved the golf clubs he'd been playing with back inside the bag, hoisted it up over his shoulder and walked off.

For all intents and purposes, the situation should have been over. It seemed all cut and dried. He had prevented Charlie from 'questioning' the Other, and so the lightening bolt wouldn't be attracted to that particular spot where Charlie had been playing bad cop.

Or would it?

Suddenly unsure if he had, in fact, managed to squelch the events of the vision he'd seen, he stopped in his tracks. It probably wouldn't hurt to take an extra step or two to make sure that things would not play out the way he'd seen. Changing direction mid-stride, he headed off in search of a sturdy looking piece of bamboo.

lostlostlost

"Dude, what is _that_?"

Desmond stiffened slightly at the sound of Hurley's voice. He turned to look at him and made note of the congenial look on his face. Either Hurley was doing a good job of trying to fake him out, or he really wasn't as mad as Charlie was that Desmond had thwarted the young englishman's plans.

Or, it could simply be that Charlie had asked Hurley to come spy on him.

He shrugged. "I'm just makin' a little something," he said.

"Um….art?"

He chuckled. "No, Hurley, it's not art."

"It's…..kinda tall."

He laughed softly and nodded. "Yeah, that it is."

Desmond knew Hurley had no idea what he was doing and the other remained silent for a while as he watched Desmond piece together his makeshift lightening rod.

"So….dude….. If I bribe you with my fruit salad, will you tell me what that thing is?"

Desmond smiled in spite of himself and stepped back to observe his handiwork. He turned to Hurley and looked at the plate. Various colorful fruits were cut up in squarish cubes and they did look rather appetizing. Still, he decided to beg off.

"No, thanks. I'm not that hungry, really. And if you want to know what this is, you're welcome to stick around and find out."

He backpedaled to one of the homemade tables and hopped up on the edge. The sky was beginning to turn grey in the distance. It wouldn't be long now.

The storm blew in quickly and caught everyone by surprise. Everyone except Desmond that is. Or so it seemed to Hurley. Desmond kept his eyes to the sky and saw several lightening flashes off in the distance and a weak, thin one that hit the water a few miles out. None of the flashes came even close to the beach and after a while he willed himself to relax. He might get out of this yet.

The dark clouds suddenly thinned and blew away, taking the storm with it almost as quickly as it had come in. Desmond sighed and hopped down off the table. He took note of the fact that Hurley's plate of food was almost gone as he walked over to disassemble the lightening rod.

Behind him, he imagined Hurley munching thoughtfully on his fruit as he tried to figure out what was going on. He decided to wait for it. Sure enough, Hurley's curiosity got the better of him.

"So….that wasn't really very enlightening. What, exactly, was supposed to have happened?"

Desmond grinned and turned around to start heading back into camp so he could stash the club and bamboo. He clapped Hurley good-naturedly on the shoulder.

"Nothing at all, brother. Absolutely nothing at all."

Hurley's eyes followed Desmond as he receded toward the rear of the camp. He turned back around to regard the now blue sky, and frowned.

* * *

ToBeContinued……

**Long & windy comments:**

This story deals strictly with the Desmond/Charlie story thread from Season 3 and the Season 4 premiere. It was a creative decision to not include any of the story threads of any of the other characters. It was also a creative decision to not include **any** flashbacks for **any** of the characters. Therefore, the story is set wholly in the 'present day'. Hurley, Claire, Sayid, Jack, Sawyer, etc., will make guest appearances parallel to their appearances in the canon story thread – or – if the altered thread warrants that they need to appear.

I started this story way back at the beginning of Dec. '07. Long before the season premiere or the episode "The Constant". Consequently, this story may seem a bit 'old-fashioned' to you. There are no paradox or resurrection theories present in this story. It deals with 'are the forces that inhabit the island good or evil', & 'why has the universe singled Charlie out'.

This is a finished story. As you will have noticed from the first chapter, I have posted the corresponding canon episode in parentheses (and italicized) at the top left corner above the chapter designation. I will post one chapter every other day so you will be able to follow it in a timely manner.

I sincerely hope that you enjoy my rewritten story. Please feel free to leave a review.

TTFN, Nori


	2. Chapter 2

The disclaimer is posted in Chapter One.  
xxx

_(Flashes Before Your Eyes)_

**Chapter Two**

Charlie bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet and regarded Locke and Sayid and what they'd just told him.

"Eko is dead?" He shook his head, still feeling a bit stunned at the news. "Eko is dead," he repeated.

This was an unfortunate and unexpected turn of events and Charlie felt that he wanted to get Desmond's take on this. He turned to the scotsman.

"So Dessy," he began to say, but was abruptly cut off as Desmond's eyes took on a faraway look. He suddenly bolted from the impromptu meeting and went running towards the beach at a breakneck pace shouting to everyone that "I've got him! I've got him!"

He tore off his shirt and hobbled on first one foot and then the other as he pulled off his shoes. He ran out into the oncoming tide, wading into it as the waters rose up to his waist. There was a moment when he was seen to lurch forward as he dove in headfirst and then he disappeared. All that anyone could see were his arms lifting and lowering as he swam through the water out to where the bobbing victim was.

"Help me!" the man exclaimed, as he saw that a rescuer was coming closer to him. "Help me!"

If the man was expecting to be rewarded with sympathy over his predicament, he was going to be very disppointed.

Desmond popped up in front of the man from the depths below startling the supposed victim into flinging himself backward.

"What?" the man yelped.

Desmond cast an angry glare at the man. "I know who you are," he said threateningly.

The man's face contorted with emotion at Desmond's outburst. "I…I don't know what – "

"Save it!" Desmond ordered. "I know everyone in my camp and you're not one of them! You're an Other."

The man's expression took on a look of seeming desperation. "What? No! I'm….I'm from the tail section! I've been trying for days to– "

"_You lie!"_ Desmond growled. He was beginning to grow tired from treading water. "We've already caught up with the tail section survivors. There's only one of them that's still alive in this camp. The rest are all dead or either kidnapped by your people. You expect me to believe that the Others would just let you waltz out and get away without a fight?"

Now the man looked like he didn't know what he should do. "My….my piece of wood got away from me! It think it sank!"

"You know what? Fine," Desmond shot back, deciding to play along with the Other's little game. "I'll take you back to camp. It won't matter anyway because you'll be dead by the end of the week."

Now the man look slightly panicked. "You're going to kill me?" he squeaked.

"Oh, no. I won't kill you. But there's another young man back there who will. A young man who gives no thought to killin' your kind."

Desmond stopped long enough for realization to appear in the man's eyes before he continued. "Aye, brother. That's right. Think it over. You think you can just come in here, pretending to be some sorry, drowning, tail section victim and we'll buy your load of rubbish and take pity on you. Well, let me tell you something. You're goin' to end up dead unless you hightail it back to your comrades, and quickly."

The man swallowed nervously as he weighed what Desmond had told him against his orders. Finally, he shrugged off the pretense, nodded and turned around. Desmond made a show of splashing his arms about, and allowing himself to sink under the water and then come back up. To the castaways on the shore, it ought to look like he was struggling.

When he got back to the beach, he threw himself down upon it and lay unmoving, and it seemed to the other campers that he must have gone through some ordeal in his attempt to rescue the drowning man.

"Dessy? What's wrong? Why didn't you come back with the bloke?"

Desmond took a few more ragged breaths before answering Charlie's question. He opened his eyes and looked up into Charlie's face. Gathering as much emotion as he could conjure up, he said, "I lost him."

It seemed to him that Charlie studied his face a little too intently after his confession, but he forced himself to remain passive so Charlie could read nothing in his expression.

Charlie nodded and patted him on the shoulder. "Sucks that, yes?"

Desmond mustered up a half-smile and nodded back. "Yeah."

Desmond let Charlie help him up and he walked slowly back to where his makeshift room was, hoping that it wouldn't seem like he was trying to get away too fast.

The little group that had gathered to watch the proceedings began to break up now that there was nothing more to be seen.

Charlie remained behind, watching Desmond as he worked his way back to his tent. He turned around and looked back over the ocean to where the drowning man had been and thought to himself that there was something fishy going on here.

lostlostlost

Desmond lifted the bottle up to his lips and took another swig. The moon was just coming up over the horizon and it splashed a delicately drawn line of pearlescent white on the surface of the water. Oh, how he wished that line would lead somewhere.

Maybe it did.

Maybe, if he got back in his little boat, he would sail out again, following that line; following it all night long until it led him far, far away from this miserable and wretched place.

The sound of a throat clearing jogged him from his reverie.

"Mind to be sharing that a bit, mate?"

Desmond lifted the bottle up to Charlie's hand. "'elp yourself."

Charlie took the bottle, shot a glance at Hurley and lifted the bottle to his own lips. He made out like he was taking a great swig of the stuff when in fact he allowed just a slow trickle to run down his throat.

Hurley had told him a rather interesting story earlier, after the _alleged_ drowning incident, about how Desmond had known that Locke had given a speech regarding going after Jack, Kate and Sawyer before Locke had actually made the speech. Now, Charlie wasn't necessarily one to believe in supernatural sorts of nonsense, but he did find it a bit intriguing so he figured _why not?_; he'll give it a shot and see how far it gets him.

"So, Dessy," he began, "what's wit' all this nonsense o' knowin' what's goin' on before it's actually 'appenin'? Ye best bein' straight wit' me, brother."

Desmond snorted.

Charlie's eyebrow went up. He was trying to act as drunk as Desmond actually was. He leaned back and handed the bottle to Hurley behind the scotsman's back.

Clearing his throat, he decided to try a different approach. "You knew that poor chap was drownin' didn' ya? You knew! Tell me Desmond."

Desmond's expression deepened into a sorrowful look. "I…I can't. I can't. I just…"

He hauled himself up off the sand and began to wobble down the beach.

Dropping all pretense of this just being a drinking party, Charlie called after him. "You coward! I'm tryin' to help you! I'm trying to give you an out! Tell me what happened so you don't have to deal with it all by yourself!"

Desmond wheeled around and came running back to Charlie and pounced on him.

"You can't help me!" he yelled. "You _especially_ can't help me!" He had his hands around Charlie's neck and collarbone and was shaking him. If Charlie hadn't been struggling for his life, he might have allowed himself a moment to be amazed at how suddenly Desmond's speech had cleared up. "You and those damn Others!" Desmond's voice dropped off abruptly and his eyes took on a vacant look as he let go of Charlie.

Hurley pulled Desmond off Charlie and threw him down on his side onto the sand.

Charlie shook his head, rubbed at his throat, and tried to regain his senses. "What the _hell_ are you talking about? You're not making any sense, man! What about the Others?"

Desmond sniffled and worked himself back into a sitting position. His face now bore the expression of someone who really wanted to divulge a deep, dark, conspiratorial secret but just couldn't quite get there. "Charlie…." He started to cry.

Charlie sighed. Apparently he wasn't going to get anything out of Desmond tonight. He hoisted Desmond up, and walked him back to his tent.

"Here," Charlie said, sitting him back down when they got inside. "You should just get some sleep, okay? You're going to have one mother of a hangover tomorrow."

He went to get up to leave, but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry for attacking you," Desmond said.

"And I'm sorry for calling you a coward." Charlie replied.

"You're a good man, Charlie," Desmond said. "I just don't want to see your life get twisted like this. I don't want to see you lose yourself."

The expression on Charlie's face changed. "You _are _seeing visions of me, aren't you? You saw me going out there to rescue that man. Why, Desmond? Why would you stop me?"

Desmond closed his eyes and was quiet for awhile in which it seemed to Charlie that Desmond must be having an internal debate with himself. Finally, Desmond opened his eyes and looked right at Charlie.

"Because you weren't going to rescue 'im, Charlie. You were going to drown 'im."

Charlie's jaw dropped slightly and he looked at Desmond, stunned.

"That's right, brother," Desmond said. "And that poor sap from a few days ago… He got electrocuted. Electrocuted! It was you…. You drew the lightening to him, and you… You showed no remorse." Sudden emotion gripped him and his expression twisted.

"It's the visions, brother," Desmond continued, his voice starting to break. "When the hatch imploded, I went back." He swept his arm back behind him to demonstrate. "I went back… I saw you…" His voice finally broke then, and he let out a few racking sobs. "It does'na matter what I do. The universe…..it's…... You're supposed to kill the Others, Charlie. I….I canna stop you."

His emotions were once again rising close to the surface and he could no longer stop them from overwhelming him. He leaned over and put his hands on Charlie's arm and laid his head against Charlie's shoulder. "Oh, Charlie….I'm sorry, brother…" His voice trailed off and he cried quietly. Surely Charlie would take pity on him and not be mad for keeping such a horrible secret.

Charlie sat still for a long time, slowly digesting what Desmond had said. Finally, he knew what he must do. "So I've been picked to whack off the sodding Others," he said, a strange look coming into his eyes. "Wow…. I have to talk to Hurley about this. And Claire!"

Charlie jumped up and bolted from Desmond's tent. Desmond lurched forward with the intent to try and grab Charlie to stop him but instead he just fell through the flap onto the sand. He watched in horror as Charlie ran off in the direction of Claire's tent.

"Nooooo," he cried, hoarsely, "Noooooo…..!"

* * *

TTFN, Nori


	3. Chapter 3

The disclaimer is posted in Chapter One.  
xxx

_(Tricia Tanaka Is Dead)_

**Chapter Three**

"So, dude, are you gonna tell me what happened last night? You ran off to Claire so fast and you never came back."

Charlie rinsed his razor in the bowl of water and peered intently at his reflection. This was probably as close a shave as he was going to get. The razor was wearing down and he didn't fancy pressing it too tightly against his skin and risking cutting himself all up.

He grabbed a bottle of clean water and poured some of it in his hand and splashed it on his face to rinse. "Bugger. That smarts."

Hurley shuffled his feet. "Dude…."

Charlie smiled. "Yeah, yeah. You're not going to believe this, mate. Wait until I tell you what Desmond said."

"_Ruff!"_

Charlie gave Hurley a strange look. "Huh?"

There was a look of puzzlement on Hurley's face as well and he pointed toward the ground. Charlie looked down to see Vincent, standing a couple yards away from him with an arm in his mouth. A skeletal arm. Hurley's face twisted into a look of disgust. "Vincent, what are you doing?" He bent down to try and see it better and noticed that there was a key dangling from the hand. "Whoa, Vincent. What is _that_?"

As if to answer his question, Vincent turned around and padded off a ways. Then he turned back around and whined at Hurley. Again, he began to move away.

The conversation with Charlie forgotten, Hurley took off after the dog.

Charlie frowned and called after his friend. "Hurley, I thought you wanted to….." But Hurley kept on going and Charlie sighed. "Oh, bollocks……"

lostlostlost

"Um, Desmond? We have a bit of unfinished business from last night."

Desmond stabbed at his lunch and refused to look up to meet Charlie's gaze. "There's really nothing more to say Charlie."

Charlie pulled up a piece of the log Des was sitting on and studied the scotsman. "I want you to tell me where these damn Others are."

Desmond's shoulders sagged and he laid his fork down in the bowl. He was afraid this was going to happen. "It doesn't work like that Charlie."

"But you see them! You know they're around here!"

Desmond closed his eyes and shook his head. "It doesn't _work_ like that Charlie," he repeated with more emphasis. Finally turning to look at the younger man, he continued. "I have no idea when these flashes are going to occur. They just come on me. When they do, I have to figure out what is familiar about the scenery so I can figure out where the Other is located." He shook his head again. "It's just not that simple, Charlie." His brow knit together in concern as he regarded Charlie. "You aren't expecting me to just up and lead you to the Others every time this happens, are you?"

Charlie pursed his lips. "Yeah, Desmond. Actually, I am."

Desmond frowned. "Charlie, these forces that are playin' with us – "

"I've been picked by someone, or something, higher up to get rid of the Others so they stop tormenting us. How can you sit there and argue with that?"

"Charlie...it's possible, isn't it, that the reason I'm having these flashes of what's going to happen is so I can stop you?"

Charlie's eyes narrowed in anger. "Maybe you're having these flashes because you're meant to _help_ me."

Desmond's expression shifted and he shook his head, refusing to believe what Charlie was suggesting. "You just assume that these forces that are in play are good. What if they aren't, Charlie? What if these are dark forces that are at work here?"

Charlie chewed on his lower lip and tried to think of something he could say to rebutt Desmond's statement. He didn't get the chance, however, as a thick spray of sand suddenly kicked up toward them.

They both lurched backward, flinging their arms across their faces, and tried to keep from falling off the log they were sitting on.

"Hey!" Charlie yelped. He took his arm away from in front of his face and looked up. A very angry looking Sawyer was standing in front of him and Desmond.

"Where's my damn stash?"

Charlie felt disappointment wash over him for the second time in under two hours.

_Bollocks….._

lostlostlost

"Charlie! Charlie!" Hurley ran toward his friend, yelling at the top of his lungs.

Charlie shuffled the pebbles he'd collected in his hand and picked one up. He eyed a particular spot in front of him and threw the pebble toward it. The pebble hit the ground and stuck where it was. Charlie frowned. He knew how that pebble was feeling right now.

"Charlie…..Charlie," Hurley gasped. He reached out a hand to steady himself and sat down next to Charlie. "You won't believe what I found! That key Vincent had – it belongs to a van! A van, Charlie! It's so cool! I tried to get it to start but it wouldn't. But I think I figured out….how…..to….." Hurley's voice trailed off as he realized that he wasn't getting any sort of a reaction out of his friend. "Um, Charlie?"

"Yeah, yeah, Hurley. That's great. Lovely."

"Uh, are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, yeah. I'm just peachy." He paused. "I had a lovely conversation with Des while you were gone." He turned to look at Hurley accusingly. Realization dawned on Hurley's face and the corner of his mouth twisted up. "Whoa, dude….that's right. You were going to tell me what Desmond said last night. Sorry. You can tell me now. Promise I won't go nowhere."

Charlie shrugged. "It doesn't really matter anymore anyway, mate." Charlie fell silent and didn't offer any further explanation.

Hurley studied his friend. "You know what you need, dude? You need to go on an adventure. You need to come with me."

"Hurley…."

"No, no. It'll be cool! We'll get the van runnin' and we'll drive around for awhile. It'll be totally awesome!" He put his hand on Charlie's arm. "C'mon, Charlie. C'mon and check it out. Jin and Sawyer are with me. Let me tell you what happened, and you can tell me all about Desmond. 'kay?"

Charlie sighed. "Fine. It's not like I have anything better to do right now." He gave the rest of his pebbles a pitch. They, too, like the first one, hit the ground and stuck, not moving any further. He frowned, turned around and followed after Hurley.

lostlostlost

Hurley peered around the side of the van to make sure that Sawyer and Jin were not listening too closely to what they were talking about.

"So, Desmond wants to stop you from offing the Others?"

"Yep," Charlie answered, nodding his head. "Can you imagine? With Jack gone, and now Kate, Locke and Sayid running off to rescue him, there's no one here to protect the camp. Sawyer's not likely the leader type material, and Desmond, well….that goes without saying. I'm telling you, this camp needs me to protect them!"

Hurley was quiet for a moment while he considered Charlie's predicament. Charlie's mood had been bolstered significantly by his participation in Hurley's discovery. "Why don't you just tell everyone what's going on? Tell them about the flashes and how you're taking care of…'things'?"

Charlie shook his head. "No. That's not going to work. I've already thought this through. With Jack gone, the last thing I want to be doin' is leading everyone to a panic knowin' there are Others lurkin' about. Regardless of the fact that I'm supposed to be killing them, our people are still going to get spooked about it. I talked it over with Claire. She believes I'm doin' the right thing."

Hurley pursed his lips and nodded. "So, how does Jack figure into all this when he comes back?" he asked, carefully avoiding the usage of the word 'if'.

"Well, the way Claire figures it, we'll tell Jack and Sayid what's goin' on. Then, he can get everyone together and make one of his grand speeches, you know? Like the 'Live Together, Die Alone' one."

"Hmmmm….." Hurley drummed his fingers lightly on the hood of the van. "Yeah, that sounds good. That might work."

Charlie responded with a smile.

Hurley slammed the hood back down and walked around the corner. "I'm gonna pop the clutch," he told Sawyer and Jin.

Sawyer shook his head. "Excuse me?"

"You two are gonna push this baby down the hill, here. At the last possible minute, I'm gonna pop the clutch."

Sawyer looked at him like he'd just grown an extra head. "Are you nuts? Velocity ain't a guarantee that this thing'll start up. Clutch popping, or no clutch popping."

Hurley put his arm around Charlie. "Yeah, but I'll have Charlie with me." He smiled.

"Uh, huh," Sawyer said. "And the little munchkin is what? Your personal good luck charm?"

Hurley's smile deepened. "Let's just say that I'm confident that Charlie ain't goin' nowhere any time soon. And if he's with me, then I'll be okay, too."

Sawyer shrugged. "Fine with me. You two take a dive that just means I'll get the rest of my stash back that much sooner."

Hurley and Charlie piled into the front of the van as Sawyer and Jin walked around to the back.

"Whenever you're ready!" Hurley yelled.

The van rocked and lurched forward and Hurley leaned back into the seat to savor the moment. After all his bad luck, he was sure that with Charlie by his side, it was his turn now to thumb his nose at fate and say 'Whatever, dude'.

* * *

TTFN, Nori


	4. Chapter 4

The disclaimer is posted in Chapter One.  
xxx

_(Par Avion)_

**Chapter Four**

"Uh, Claire?"

"Earth to Claire."

Since the verbal prompts didn't seem to be working, Charlie lifted his hand up in front of her face and started snapping his fingers. The action startled her, as he'd hoped, and her head jerked toward him, her eyes quickly coming to focus on his face. "Oh! Um….sorry. I guess I zoned out a bit there."

Charlie looked warmly at her. "Yeah, I kinda noticed. So….what's so enthralling that you were able to tear your attention away from me and this lovely breakfast I gathered together?"

Claire grinned brightly and pointed up to the seagulls that were flying overhead. "Migration," she said simply.

"Uh-huh," Charlie responded, looking up at the birds. He made a valiant attempt at a knowing smile but it fell off because, really, he had no idea what the heck she was talking about. "Uh, I'm a bit lost here….." he prompted.

"Migratory paths," she answered. "I watched a special once about birds and how they migrate. These gulls are heading south. I bet that at least a few of them have scientific tags on them. The scientists chart the paths they fly you know."

Charlie grinned stupidly at her and shook his head. "No, actually, I don't know. Claire, what do birds and scientists have to do with anything?"

She laughed softly and threw a piece of mango at him. He caught it one-handed and she continued. "If we can catch one of those birds – one that's tagged – and attach a note to its leg, the scientists will read it and know that we're still alive. They'll come rescue us!" She smiled triumphantly and watched Charlie's face as understanding finally blossomed there as to what she was getting at.

"Claire, that's brilliant!" he exclaimed.

Her smile deepened. "I know."

lostlostlost

Desmond paced back and forth like a cornered animal. He had to do something and he had to do it now.

Earlier, Charlie, Jin and Claire had attempted to capture a seagull but were inadvertantly thwarted when Hurley went running down to meet them to see what they were doing. For a few minutes there, he honestly thought he was going to get away with seeing his vision rendered null and void.

Of course, he should have known better.

If the three friends had been successful in capturing the bird, then he wouldn't have had the vision in the first place. Now, Charlie was going to leave the camp to go hunting after a seagull. And when he found it….. Desmond shuddered and stopped his pacing. He had toyed with the idea of asking Charlie to go hunting with him but rejected it after he realized that Charlie would simply tell Desmond he needed to make a side trip while he was out here. And what would he do to stop Charlie then? Knock him out, and drag him back to camp? Everyone would be wanting him to give an explanation of what happened, and he couldn't do that. At least, he couldn't give them the real explanation. It was just too risky. He had to come up with something else. What he really needed to do was confine Charlie to the camp so he couldn't go anywhere. But how?

He started pacing again, and began rubbing his temples. To confine Charlie to camp, something needed to happen. Something that could be used as an excuse to lock down the camp and tell everyone to stay put. He couldn't just keep Charlie here while everyone else went on about their business. That meant it had to be something on a grand scale. Something that would be perceived as a viable threat.

Desmond stopped pacing again as a new thought came to him. He worked at it for a bit, turning it over, fleshing it out and finessing it. Yes, it seemed a little crazy to him, but then again it just might work.

He turned around and dashed off to get a rifle.

lostlostlost

Gunshots echoed through the still air, shattering the soothing sound of the crashing tide and the rustle of the breeze in the leaves.

Everyone was up and looking frantically around, having brought their actions to a screeching halt when the first gunshot sounded.

Desmond finally came crashing through the foliage and back into the camp, looking more than a bit panicked.

"Sawyer!" he yelled, as he ran through the camp. "Sawyer!"

Sawyer was already running to meet Desmond, gun in hand, as he'd anticipated that whatever had prompted the gunshots couldn't be good.

"A bear," Desmond gasped out. "I think I saw a bear! It's close to camp. I tried to scare it off."

Sawyer's face went stiff. "Did you see any white?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Desmond gave him a strange look. "I…..I saw some flashes of white through the underbrush.It was moving fast. I heard it growling. It sounded like a…..a bear."

Sawyer nodded his head. "Damn polar bear," he growled. "How the hell many of them damn things are there?" He felt every muscle in his body tensing.

"We need to keep everyone in the camp," Desmond said.

Sawyer turned immediately to Charlie who had come running up to hear what was going on. "Chucky, get everyone together in the center of the camp. Pile anything and everything you can around you to create a barrier."

"I want to come with you!"

"Charlie," Desmond said, "Sayid, Locke and Kate are gone. _I'm_ going with Sawyer. You're the only other logical choice to stay behind and keep everyone together." He was looking with all the ernestness he could muster up at Charlie. Sawyer had unknowingly aided him by turning to Charlie and placing him in charge. Desmond had to say whatever he could to prop up Sawyer's dictate and keep Charlie from arguing about it.

"I'll help him," Bernard said.

Sawyer turned to find the older man. "Right. Get crackin'." He turned back around and clapped Des on the shoulder. "Let's move!"

Desmond followed after Sawyer at a fast clip. Behind him, he could feel Charlie's eyes burning into his back.

lostlostlost

Carefully, Desmond picked his way over the rocks toward what he hoped was the correct direction to get to the gull's nest. He knew he was in the right place because the formation of the rocks was familiar. He just needed to find the right sheltered nook which held the nest. After a little more navigating, he espied it. "Ah, there it is…"

He worked his way through the shallow pool of water to the nest. There was a seagull perched atop it, unmoving; seemingly unphased by his approach.

"Stop right there, Desmond."

Desmond whirled around, almost losing his footing at the intrusive female voice. He put an arm out against one of the boulders to stop himself from falling down.

"Claire. Um…fancy meeting you out here."

Claire was staring at him with an angry look in her eyes. "Very funny, Desmond. I don't find you amusing," she said.

Desmond paused for a moment. If humor wasn't going to work, then maybe he should try a direct question. "Um…why are you following me?"

"You know why I'm following you," she said in a low, threatening tone. "You probably thought your little departure from camp while we were dismantling the barrier went unnoticed."

"Oh…um…" Suddenly, he drew a sharp intake of breath. He ran forward, grabbed Claire and pulled her down into the shallow pool with him.

She looked absolutely aghast at his actions. "What are you – ?"

He clamped his hand over her mouth and pointed upwards. The look of fear in his eyes told her she needed to be quiet.

After a few moments the sound of a male voice was heard. It crackled a bit as though it were coming across a static riddled phone line. "Do you see anything?" the voice asked.

"No, nothing," came another male voice, clearer, and very close to where Desmond and Claire were sitting. Claire pried Des's hand from her face, and leaned back as far as she could against the boulders behind them. She drew her legs up to her chest and tried to squish herself as flat as possible so the man wouldn't see her. Desmond saw what she'd done and followed suit. He closed his eyes and willed himself to remain calm. Behind his eyelids, he could see the Other plainly. Quite plainly, as Charlie beat the man's head repeatedly against the rocks. He shuddered involuntarily and crossed his arms around his chest.

"I'm just gonna pick the trail up here," he was saying. "It begins again just up yonder where them scraggly trees are standing."

"Fine," came the static laden voice again. "Radio back in in another thirty minutes."

"Gotcha."

The sound of footsteps slapping on wet rock was heard as the man walked across the tops of the boulders to get back out to the beach. Desmond waited for what seemed like an eternity until he thought the man was most certainly gone.

"I think it's alright now, lassie," he said to Claire. He offered her his hand and pulled her up out of the pool of water.

Instead of thanking him, she yelled at him. "Desmond, how dare you!" she exclaimed.

Desmond was taken aback. "What?"

"This is another one of your ploys to prevent Charlie from protecting us by killing an Other, isn't it?"

Desmond's mouth fell open. "Um…look…Claire…."

"And that nonsense earlier with the rifle," she continued, cutting him off. "There wasn't any bear was there? You saw an Other earlier and cooked up that story to keep Charlie from going after him."

Desmond's face fell, and a sigh escaped him. He knew that Charlie had told Claire of his flashes and what he'd seen in them the very night that he'd revealed it to Charlie. There was really no point in acting like she wouldn't understand what he was talking about. "No, Claire. I cooked up that story to keep Charlie confined in the camp so he wouldn't come looking for this gull here."

"_What?_"

"Claire, I saw Charlie here at these rocks, beating that man's head against them. And yes, he did kill him, Claire!"

"Well, some things can't be helped, Desmond. Maybe if you'd try not interfering for a change – "

"Look, Claire, I'm trying to help Charlie," he said, cutting her off. "Don't you understand? I'm tryin' to save him!"

"Save him? You're trying to save the Others, that's what! You're still in contact with them, aren't you? _Aren't you?_"

"No, I'm not! I can't let Charlie fall into this kind of a life! Getting a taste for blood and killing! And what of when we get off this rock? What then? What if he still feels like he needs to kill someone every now and again? You can't want that for him, Claire! Tell me you don't want that for him."

Claire's brow furrowed a bit, and she drew her lower lip into her mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully, seeming to ponder what it was that he'd just said. Desmond knew that if he could get Claire on his side, then Charlie would stop badgering him for information and wanting him to act as his accomplice. Unfortunately, today was not the day that Desmond's hopes would be bouyed.

Claire stamped her foot in the pool suddenly, splashing water about as she made her decision. She spoke, and her voice came out in a calm, but cold tone, with a layer of anger underneath it. "Let me tell you something, Desmond. I was kidnapped by the Others. They wanted to take Aaron from me. They strung Charlie up to a tree and left him to _die_! If there is anyone in this camp that deserves to exact vengeance against the Others it's Charlie." She paused for a moment to regroup her thoughts. "And as for your theory about him becoming some sorry murderer – that's rubbish! Charlie's only doing what's needed of him for the rest of the time we're stranded in this wretched place. When we leave here, our lives will return to normal. And Charlie will be remembered as a great hero! I'll not let you deprive him of that! Do you hear me?"

Desmond could only stare at Claire speechless. He had no clue she was capable of feeling such indifference. If she was going to side with Charlie on this, then he was pretty much on his own with trying to keep Charlie from the Others since Hurley didn't seem too keen on helping him either. He tried to formulate a response to what she'd said, but she muscled her way in next to where he was standing with an order of "Move aside!" She plucked the poor seagull off it's nest and stormed off before he was able to finish stringing his thoughts together into something intelligible.

lostlostlost

Claire held the gull gently and close as Charlie finished tying the note to its leg. She smiled encouragingly and stepped away from him a bit. Extending her arms she lifted them up in the air and released the gull. It stretched out its wings and flew away, taking the survivor's hopes of rescue with it.

She walked back over to Charlie who was staring forlornly at the bird as it rose and soared away. "The Others," he said, "they're going to keep skulking around. Eventually, they're going to get the upper hand…." His voice trailed off and Claire wrapped her arm around his waist to comfort him.

"Do you really think I'll go on killing when we get off this rock? Would I really want to live that way for the rest of my life?"

Claire frowned. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything. The last thing she wanted was for Charlie to start second guessing himself. It was obvious that Desmond's words were now beginning to cause him doubt.

"No, Charlie, I don't. The universe knew this was going to happen. It knew that Jack, Kate, and all the rest were going to be taken away by the Others, leaving us vulnerable. That's what the Others are doing. They took all our leaders and now we're just out here in the open with no one to protect us, really. So it picked you, Charlie. The universe knew that you could step up to the task and deal with what needed to be done. After this is all over and we're all safe back on the mainland, the universe will let you go and we can live a normal life."

She placed her hands on his chest and looked intently into his eyes. "It's true, Charlie. I just know it is." She smiled and slipped her arms around his neck. "Tell me you believe me."

Charlie gazed back into her eyes and returned the smile. He could get lost in those eyes he knew. And there was one other thing he knew, too. "I believe you," he said. He pulled her into a hug and held her close.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to deal with Desmond.

* * *

TTFN, Nori


	5. Chapter 5

The disclaimer is posted in Chapter One.  
xxx

_(Catch-22)_

**Chapter Five**

The fishing pole clattered, forgotten, onto the rocks and Desmond struggled to control both his breathing and his balance as he fought to unravel the tangle of images from his latest flash. They had come so quickly, and they were night scenes, and Desmond couldn't filter out any landmarks or other familiar looking territory that would tell him where he should start searching. The only thing that had stood out was the image of Hurley and Jin pulling on a metal cable that apparently went into the woods.

But that wasn't the only thing. He'd seen images of Penny.

Was Penny coming to the island? Was he finally going to get rescued after three years of living in a hole pushing a button?

He didn't see that he had a choice. As much as he didn't want to admit it to himself, he felt he needed to find Penny more than he needed to stop Charlie from killing the Other he'd seen. The thought of the Other prompted the gory vision of how the man had died to come back to him and he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head to get rid of the image.

There was really no way he could get out of this on his own this time. He was going to have to include every one he saw in the series of flashes, and he needed to start with Hurley.

He picked up his fishing pole and walked off with it, searching for Hurley amongst the other castaways. He approached him, and sat down next to him, and began the conversation without preamble.

"Hurley, what can you tell me about some sort of metal cable that runs into the forest?"

A look of suspicion immediatley cropped up on Hurley's face and he decided to take the defensive. "Dude, I'm not helping you keep Charlie from the Others."

Desmond frowned. The lie he would need to tell came to him so quickly and without hesitation that it might have startled him were he not feeling so desperate about things.

"No, Hurley," he said, shaking his head, "This is not about that. There are…..people…..coming to the island. I need your help to find them. I need to know where the cable is, Hurley. It's important. Please."

Hurley studied Desmond's face for a long moment, but couldn't detect any traces of deception in his tone. He shrugged. "I guess I can take you there.

"Good," Desmond replied, nodding his head. "I need a first aid kit. C'mon." He got up and motioned for Hurley to come with him.

After procuring a kit from Jack on the pretense of having a sprained ankle, Desmond fake-hobbled back to the log they were previously sitting on.

Hurley watched him with curiosity as he pretended to wrap it. "So, like, are you going to be patching up the Other that Charlie tackles?"

Desmond sighed and didn't respond.

Undaunted by Desmond's lack of enthusiasm, Hurley plunged ahead. "You know, just because Jack and Kate are back doesn't mean we still don't need protection. I was there, dude. I got dragged off by Michael with the rest of them. And you heard Kate and Sawyer tell about what they did to them. The less there are of _Them_, the better it is for _us_."

Desmond turned away from his not bandaged ankle. "Hurley, it isn't like that. This isn't about Charlie," he lied. "These visions….I only get pieces of them at a time. Sometimes it takes longer to put them together so they make sense. But this time…. I'm still not sure what they mean, Hurley. I saw a flash of you with Jin and the cable. That was the first one. After that….I'm not sure I can tell you the rest without unraveling the whole thing and undoing what's meant to be done."

Demond leaned into the space where Hurley was sitting for emphasis. "Someone is coming to the island, Hurley. Someone from _outside_. That's all I know for sure. I think they're coming to rescue us. Believe me, Hurley. If what I saw is what I think, then I _want_ this vision to happen." He paused and studied Hurley's face to see if he could gage the reaction there. "So, are you with me or not?"

Hurley shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I am."

lostlostlost

"Charlie?"

Charlie looked up from where he was sitting and strumming his guitar. He plucked a few more strings before placing his palm over the cords to still their vibration and stop the hum.

"Yeah? Something on your mind?"

Charlie's tone of voice was less than inviting and Desmond sat down reluctantly to start the conversation.

"Charlie, something's about to happen and I need you to help me."

Charlie's mouth twisted and an eyebrow crept up into his hairline. "Oh, really? Well, that's a bit of a switch, yeah? What's about to happen, pray tell, that you'd _want_ me around for?"

Desmond took a deep breath. "I've had another vision, Charlie. This one's different, though. Someone's coming to the island. I think they want to rescue us." He stopped and nodded his head to indicate the opposite end of the beach. "Hurley's down there inviting Jin to come with us."

Charlie found his curiosity finally beginning to pique. If Jin was going to be involved with this, well, then maybe this really was a different sort of vision. "Jin?" he asked casually. "And what's Jin have to do with this?"

Desmond sighed. The repetitive explanations were starting to wear on him. Especially since everything he said Hurley and Charlie were suspicious of. "I'm not sure yet. I saw him and Hurley pulling on some metal cable at the beach."

Charlie was silent as he contemplated this little tidbit of information.

"That's all I can really tell you for now, Charlie," Desmond continued. "I'm not even sure yet where we'll meet this person. And I really can't go into detail. I'm afraid I'll alter something if I do."

Charlie bobbed his head up and down. "All right, fine. I'm officially intrigued. I'll come with. Can I bring me guitar on this little excursion?"

Desmond shrugged. "Yeah, sure. That'll be fine."

He got up and offered Charlie a hand. The two of them went off to meet up with Hurley, who had been successful in getting Jin to come along with them.

After securing a few more supplies, they headed off down the beach to where the cable was. Hurley spotted it first, and he pointed out where he had entered the jungle and came in contact with Danielle's traps. He motioned for Jin to help him, and the two grabbed the cable and pulled it up from the sand, shaking it so the grains would fall off and provide Desmond with a better look at it.

"So that's it, yeah?" Desmond asked. It just looked like your average, ordinary type metal cable. There didn't seem to be anything special about it's construction.

Hurley and Jin dropped the cable back down. "So, you wanna go in there, now?" Hurley asked, gesturing toward the jungle's edge.

Desmond shook his head. "No." He looked up at the sky, and then across the water to the horizon where the sun was sinking fast. "I think it might be best for us to make camp here before night comes."

He shrugged his backpack off and sat down, the rest of his companions following suit, and they began to settle in for the night.

As the evening progressed, Desmond found that he just couldn't bring himself to join in with the activities the others were engaged in. Charlie played his guitar which, at one point, ended up acting as background accompaniment while Jin told stories in his native language. Jin and Hurley especially seemed to be having a good enough time without him, and so he hovered on the fringes of the encampment, smoothing the edges of his photograph of him and Penny and staring at it as though it were the most precious material possession he had in the world. Actually, it probably was.

Charlie would look up every now and then and cast a glance Desmond's way and wonder what was eating him so. He finally got up and walked over to him, taking some food with him to offer the scotsman to try and get him to open up.

Desmond accepted the food gratefully, and Charlie sat down next to him. "So, that's your bird, eh?"

"Yeah."

Charlie leaned in a bit to get a better look. "So...can I ask how you ended up here and she didn't?"

Desmond shook his head slowly at the memories that came filtering back. "I left her, Charlie. Instead of standing up and fighting for her, I ran away. I hate that I'm such a coward." His expression turned down in a frown and he reached forward to his backpack to tuck the photo back inside.

Charlie racked his brain to try to come up with something he could say to make Desmond feel better but the silence was broken suddenly by a choppy, rhythymic sound cutting through the air. Desmond heard it first and he jumped up and shushed the other campers and held up his hand for quiet. Charlie stood next to him, straining his eyes in the direction that Desmond was looking and listening intently for a sound. He finally picked it up and said that it sounded like a helicopter to him.

The four men walked down a bit toward the water's edge and scanned the night sky. As suddenly as the chopper blade sound had come on them, it turned ugly just as quickly. The helicopter made a sputtering sound, followed by the sound of screeching metal, and then the whine of the engines as it plummeted into the ocean shattering the surface of the water.

Hurley broke from the group and ran down to the surf's edge. "Shouldn't we go out there and get them?" he said, pointing to where he thought the chopper had crashed.

Desmond opened his mouth to decline, but Charlie was there, gripping his shoulder and turning him in a new direction while pointing with the other hand toward the roof of the jungle's edge.

"Look!" he exclaimed. "You can see lights!"

And there it was. A blinking red light falling through the clouds. The light was wobbling over the treetops and they easily followed it until it fell out of sight.

Desmond's face cracked open into a grin. "Well, that's it then. Let's go get our rescuer!"

He took a step forward and was stopped by a hand that was still on his shoulder. He turned around to see Charlie looking at him. "Oh no, we're not."

lostlostlost

Desmond might have been in a more humorous mood had Charlie agreed to continue with the trek into the jungle the night before instead of waiting until the first light of this morning.

But then, that's what he got, he supposed, for not telling Charlie the full truth behind his vision. If Charlie had known that there was an opportunity to kill another Other looming just up ahead, he might have been eager to get going right away and not wait around for daylight.

Of course, it only made sense. Why would Charlie want to go barreling into a dark jungle and risk putting himself and his companions in danger of falling victim to one of Rousseau's traps themselves when Desmond had told them that the only reason for them being here was to find the parachutist from the helicopter they'd seen?

And so he hadn't told Charlie because he was still trying to figure out a way to save the Other from his fate, and Charlie from his, so he'd acquiesced and had spent a fitful night tossing and turning while the others had slept soundly.

They knew they were getting close to where the parachutist had jumped, when they came across the backpack hanging down from a tree limb. Among the contents that spilled from the pack when Des upturned it were a book written in Portuguese that contained a copy of the same picture Des was carrying with him. This only cemented his belief that it was Penny that had found them and come for him. He was more anxious now than ever to find her.

It took every ounce of willpower that he possessed to keep from running blindly through the forest in the direction he hoped would take him to Penny. He was distracted and unfocused now, and when Charlie asked him if the reason he wanted to find the parachutist so badly was because he thought it was Penny, Desmond merely gave a curt nod and muttered "yeah". Charlie frowned and tapped Desmond on the arm with the back of his hand. "Des, did you really think that we wouldn't have come willingly if we knew it was your girl and she was coming here to rescue us?"

Desmond's mouth drew out in a grim line. "Charlie…..I just didn't know if I would change anything."

Charlie fell silent then. It was obvious that Desmond was agitated and not in the mood for conversation.

A light rain began falling and Hurley mumbled something about why Desmond didn't tell them to bring umbrellas. Desmond was so engrossed in his own thoughts, with his sight turned inward looking at scenes from his past that only he could see, that he'd forgotten he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for any foliage that looked familiar from his vision so he could steer them _away_ from Rousseau's trap and in a different direction.

Vaguely, at the outermost reaches of his hearing, he registered that Hurley and Charlie had started arguing over which Justice League character would win in a footrace – Superman or the Flash.

By the time the conversation awakened in Desmond the realization that the first part of his mission had now come upon him, it was too late. There was a sudden rustling sound behind them and the sound of crunching footsteps. Everyone sensed the danger as well and the group came to a halt mid-stride. Desmond turned around in horror to find himself face to face with the Other from his vision standing behind him. His eyes went wide and a sense of panic gripped him.

"Well, now, ain't this a fine day for a hike through the woods," the Other said. He had a gun strapped to his belt, quite clearly for them all to see. Hurley, Jin, and Charlie naturally looked at Desmond to see what he was going to do.

Desmond took a few breaths to try and still his wildly beating heart. He had no idea how he was going to get himself, or his friends, out of this. Involuntarily, his eyes trailed to Charlie's feet, then to the trigger line on the forest floor, and finally where it connected to the concealed arrow. He turned back around and his gaze settled on Charlie.

Desmond's strange behavior had hardly gone unnoticed by Charlie. Intuitively, he suddenly knew that there was more to this mission than just finding the parachutist because Desmond thought it was Penny. A determined expression crossed his face and a dark look appeared in his eyes. He lifted his foot and stepped down on the trigger line. Desmond was looking at him mortified, but it was far, far too late now. Charlie lifted his foot off the wire and sidestepped out of the way of the arrow's trajectory. Desmond leaped forward with a yelp, but there was nothing he could do. The arrow shot out with a speed too great for Desmond to try and catch, and it went whizzing toward the Other standing behind them.

The arrow embedded itself into the man's throat and he fell with a heavy thud into the undergrowth on the forest floor. There was a sickening silence as everyone turned their faces away from the man flopping on the ground. Even Charlie turned away from the gruesome scene, whether out of deference for everyone else, or whether he really didn't have the nerve to watch the man he'd just impaled die, Desmond didn't know. He swallowed at the lump in his throat and felt that he was going to be sick. But he closed his eyes and managed to beat the feeling down. He heard more rustling and slapping sounds just beyond where they were standing and he could only attribute it to the possiblity that the Other had a travelling companion. After what seemed like an interminably long time, he opened his eyes and walked slowly forward, with the others in tow, to look at the dead Other lying on the ground.

"Dudes….that's….gross," Hurley said.

There was a dark look of satisfaction on Charlie's face as he gazed down on the dead Other. "It is, isn't it? That's why it's better him than us, yeah?"

lostlostlost

"Light!" was all that Jin could think of to say to get his message across to Desmond. He was pointing and speaking emphatically in his native language in a direction that was opposite from where Desmond wanted to go.

Desmond shook his head, frustrated at the standoff they had seemed to come to. "Alright, we'll split up then." He looked at Hurley who nodded in agreement.

Charlie gave Desmond a 'look'. "I'm coming with you," he said, an angry tone skirting around his voice.

"You guys go that way," Desmond said, motioning in the direction that Jin had wanted to go. "We'll go this way." He turned on his heel, barely glancing at Charlie, and walked off.

But he wasn't going to get away from Charlie that easily. Charlie walked in silence behind Desmond for a while. Just long enough for him to think that his companions were out of earshot by now. He took a few quick strides forward to close the gap between him and Desmond. "Exactly what the hell was that back there?" he demanded.

Desmond stopped and paused a moment before turning to regard Charlie. "What do you want me to say, Charlie?"

"You knew that you were leading us into danger bringing us out here like this! You knew there'd be an Other trailing our every move. You actually wanted to do nothing to stop him!"

Desmond flexed his fingers, balling them into fists and then relaxing them. He wondered if smacking Charlie upside the head would knock any more sense into him. "Yes, well," he replied through gritted teeth, "you managed to compensate rather nicely for my inaction. Congratulations."

He made to turn away from Charlie, but Charlie would have none of it. He grabbed Des's arm and pulled him back. "Oh, don't you get flip with me! We could have been kidnapped, or killed! You keep interfering with – "

"You just don't get it, do you?" Desmond suddenly shouted, gesturing helplessly with his hands. "You just don't understand! You think this is all just some hobby you get to do on the side! Do you have _any_ idea what it does to me to have to see these flashes of you killing people? I don't care if it's the bloody Others! You just assume that these are good forces that are pulling at you, Charlie. But what if they're not? What if these are dark forces that have ahold of you and I'm _supposed_ to keep you from travelling down this path until the good forces find a way to counterbalance things? For God's sake, man! I would have actually altered the vision to keep you from doing this. I would have chosen you over Penny! Does that not mean _anything_ to you at all?"

Charlie took a few steps back from Desmond but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Des's desperate gaze. He felt a wrenching emotion in his stomach and he realized, for the first time, just how deeply Desmond felt about keeping Charlie from fulfilling his supposed task of being the universe's hired assassin. What if Desmond had a point? Now that Desmond had poured his heart out, and Charlie truly knew where he was coming from, he had to wonder – just what were the roles he and Desmond were playing? Was the universe bored? Was it so bored that it felt compelled to pick two random strangers, lost on some mysterious, shrouded island in the middle of the South Pacific to be players in some sordid game it had created to pass the time? There were suddenly so many questions he had. He wanted to know _exactly_ what had happened to Desmond when the hatch imploded. Desmond had said that he "went back". But where 'back' had he gone to? His mind was reeling and it took a great effort to reach his voice and bring words forth. "Des….I…."

Whatever he had wanted to say, or ask, got cut off by sudden shouting behind them. He recognized Jin's voice, drifting through the forest. The Korean man was yelling at the top of his lungs. There was an excited tinge to his tone and both Charlie and Desmond could guess that the reason for it was because Jin and Hurley had found the parachutist.

Desmond put his hands on Charlie's shoulders and turned him around. As relieved as he felt right now that Charlie had apparently gained some understanding of his particular point of view, he just couldn't continue this discussion at the moment. "We'll talk later," he said, and dashed forward, running off in the direction of the commotion. Charlie uprooted his feet and followed after.

The parachutist was hanging, unmoving, from a tree. Desmond got a foothold on the knobby trunk and began pulling himself up. He prayed that Penny was alright, and cursed himself for leaving her hanging here all night long.

_Please be okay._

When he got to where she was hanging, he noticed that there was a twig sticking out of her rib cage. A wave of panic swept over him and he feared that she may be dead. He cut at the ropes that held her to the tree and she fell into her actual parachute that Hurley, Jin, and Charlie were holding underneath her.

Hurley looked her over and frowned at her condition as Desmond climbed back down from the tree. She was moaning and had to be in pain from her injury. Desmond came over and unstrapped the oxygen mask from her face.

No one was more surprised than he at the sight of her face.

It was a woman all right. But it wasn't Penny.

* * *

TTFN, Nori


	6. Chapter 6

The disclaimer is posted in Chapter One.  
xxx

_(D.O.C.)_

**Chapter Six**

Desmond looked down at the young woman on the ground in front of him and then back up at his companions. His insides were twisting over the fact that it wasn't Penny and, for a moment, he felt as though that arrow Charlie had tripped had gone right through him ripping open a hole in his heart.

Besides that, she had been impaled by a twig and unless something was done fast she was going to die. This called for the execution of a medical procedure that was beyond what he had learned in his failed attempt to apply himself to the field of doctoring.

"I'm going to have to go back to camp and get Jack," Desmond said, his voice laced with a hint of fear.

"You can't do that," Charlie replied. "It's going to be dark soon. You'll get lost. And you can't go out there alone. That Other had a friend with him, remember?"

Desmond bit his lower lip and thought furiously. Charlie had a point. But he couldn't just let this woman lay here like this until morning. She'd already suffered enough damage from hanging here over the last night.

"I've got to risk it, Charlie. She needs more help than any of us can give her."

"It took us eight hours to get here! It'll take you twice that and more to get back in the dark!"

"Well, then, I guess I'll just have to run like hell, won't I?"

While Desmond and Charlie were debating the course of action to be taken for the injured parachutist, Hurley had taken to playing around with the supplies they'd found. Currently, he was turning a flare gun over in his hand, not really paying attention to what he was doing. He pointed it up at the sky and, before he could stop himself, he accidentally depressed the trigger. The flare shot out and up, away from the gun into the night sky, and lit it up like a fireball.

Charlie smiled grimly. "Well, that ought to bring someone running, yeah?"

As if in answer to his musings, the sound of slapping leaves accompanied by running footfalls suddenly rang in their ears. The four men turned around. Of all the people to meet out here in the forest, under such dire circumstances, Mikhail was the last one they would have expected. And yet, there he was, standing not more than ten yards away from them.

He stared at them for a few seconds before turning and bolting back into the forest. Jin took off after him, yelling in his native language. Charlie ran after him to help and Hurley went after them as well in case they needed back up. Desmond remained behind with the woman, and after a few, tense long minutes the three friends came marching back into the clearing with a subdued Mikhail in tow.

Almost immediately, Mikhail launched into a negotiation with Desmond in the hopes that he could win back his freedom. He looked down at the injured woman on the ground while the other four men discussed what they ought to do with him as though he weren't even standing there in their midst. "I can take care of the woman's injury," Mikhail said abruptly, breaking into their conversation. "I have field medic experience in this sort of thing. I can get that limb out of her."

Desmond's gaze drifted over to Charlie who was looking at him rather dubiously. His expression indicated that he thought this was a really bad idea, no matter what angle you looked at it from.

Desmond wasn't so sure however. He wanted to know just who this woman was and why she had a picture of him and Penny. "Alright," Desmond said. "Go ahead and do what you need to do."

Mikhail nodded in understanding and slowly began walking forward to where the woman was lying.

Charlie stepped into his path and stopped him. "You remember what I did to your lovely friend back there, yeah?" He paused just long enough to let the reminder sink in. "I'll be watching you," he said, in a warning tone of voice. "Make sure you're helping her and not harming her further." There was a hard look in his eyes that Mikhail couldn't possibly have misread. He said nothing in response to Charlie, only held his gaze a moment longer and then walked forward again.

Mikhail punctered the woman's lung so the blood would drain and then pulled the twig from her chest. He began cleaning the wound and the woman gasped suddenly, drawing in a much needed breath of air. Everyone's expression changed to that of relief as they studiously watched Mikhail finish dressing the wound.

"She will heal in a day. Perhaps a day and a half."

"With a punctered lung? I don't think so," Charlie said.

"On this island one heals in a different way than in the outside world." He turned to Desmond. "And now I am free to go, yes?"

"Yes," Desmond answered, confirming the agreement he'd made with Mikhail.

"This is not a good idea," Charlie said. "There's no way for us to know if he has anyone else out there waiting for him. They'll come down on our heads!"

Desmond looked again at Mikhail, trying to gage the expression on his face and in his eyes. He knew the risk, but he honestly felt that Mikhail was telling them the truth about him being alone now.

"No, Charlie," he answered, "I said he could leave and he will."

Charlie shot an angry glare at Desmond as Mikhail inclined his head slightly and turned to walk away.

Desmond held his breath. He hadn't seen a vision of Charlie killing Mikhail so, technically, didn't that mean that Charlie would acquiesce and let Mikhail go? But then again, he was so sure from his vision that the woman coming for them was Penny and he'd been wrong about that. And, he hadn't seen any hint of Mikhail in his vision, either. It occurred to him that this current vision was riddled with more holes than a block of swiss cheese.

Mikhail had almost made his way out of the tiny clearing when Jin yelped an alarm.

"Phone! Phone!" he exclaimed, pointing madly in the direction the russian had gone.

He sprang forward after Mikhail with Charlie close on his heels. Des took off after them. Images of his vision going horribly awry passed in front of his eyes. Jin got to Mikhail first and fought with him and managed to subdue him. He wrestled the phone away and stood near him so he wouldn't run again.

Charlie walked up to stand directly in front of him. "Nice try, that," he said. "Real slick." He paused long enough to take in a good look at Mikhail's face. "How about I relieve you of your other eye there? Would you like that?"

Desmond stepped halfway in front of Charlie. "Just go," he said to Mikhail.

"He tried to swipe our phone! You really gonna just let him walk away?" Charlie exclaimed, incredulous.

Mikhail smiled. "Well, you wouldn't have respected me if I hadn't at least tried, yes?"

Desmond turned his gaze on Charlie. "Charlie, please. _Please_ don't do this."

The emotional outburst he'd just had with Charlie was still fresh in his mind and he hoped it was the same in Charlie's. If it was, then he could trade on that to keep Charlie in line. "I want him to leave, Charlie. We have more important things to worry about right now."

Charlie frowned and bit his tongue. As far as he was concerned, if there was one Other besides Ben that _truly_ deserved death, it was Mikhail. At the very least, Mikhail's butt should be dragged back to camp, along with the rest of his body, and tied to a tree until it was decided what should be done with him. The thought of killing him anyway, despite Desmond's pleading, crossed his mind fleetingly, but then he was overcome by the strangest feeling that he would see the russian again.

The three castaways watched Mikhail leave until they could no longer see the movement of the foliage as he trekked back the way he'd come.

Desmond let out a long breath of relief and turned around to go back to their injured would-be rescuer.

"So now what?" Charlie asked, from where he walked at Desmond's side.

"Now we build a stretcher."

* * *

TTFN, Nori


	7. Chapter 7

The disclaimer is posted in Chapter One.  
xxx

_(Greatest Hits)_

**Chapter Seven**

Charlie tromped along across the open field at the end of the line of hand-picked castaways that Jack had assembled.

No one in the group had any clue what Jack was really doing or what, if anything, he had in store for them when they got to wherever it was they were going. Ever since he'd come back from the barracks, with Juliet in tow, there had been whisperings as to whether or not he'd been 'converted' and was now an Other sympathizer who was going to turn on them as soon as Ben gave the order.

Charlie mostly kept his eyes on the ground, and pulled at a tall weed every now and then and played with it to pass the time. He'd twirl it around, or he'd swish it back and forth in the air. He was bored, mostly, and his thoughts turned again and again to the most recent conversation that he and Desmond had had about their mutual predicament. Desmond had filled him in on a few more of the high points of the story, (although for the life of him he simply could not remember Desmond ever running into him on the street corner), and he was grateful for the extra insight. Still, in spite of his feelings of understanding where the scotsman was concerned, he felt sometimes that he was being cheated. Cheated out of _what_, though, he couldn't quite say.

He tossed the frond he was playing with to the side and looked up. Just as he did, Desmond's gait began to slow and he stepped off line for a moment, a strange expression on his face. He turned and looked back at Charlie, a familiar look in his eyes, and then shook his head and stepped back into the line again.

Charlie jogged forward to catch up to him.

"You saw something didn't you?"

Desmond hesitated for a moment. "No, I didn't. I was just….thinking. It was….nothing."

He turned his back to Charlie and kept walking.

Charlie reached out and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Desmond," he said in a warning tone, "what are you doing? I thought we were going to have better communcation about this after what happened on our camping trip."

Desmond sighed and looked directly at Charlie. He didn't really want to put into words what he'd just seen. He wanted to turn it over and think about it first. He had to be careful about his reaction or he'd totally destroy the trust Charlie had been affording him lately. "It was nothing, Charlie. I swear. I…_was_ thinking about something, but….it wasn't a flash or anything. It's just that….things seem to be getting down to the wire. I suppose I'm feeling a bit spooked. Don't read too much into it, okay?" He searched Charlie's face, trying to will him to back off for now.

Finally, Charlie nodded his head. "Yeah, alright. Fine. It was nothing." He motioned Des forward and the scotsman turned around and took off to catch up to the group. They had stopped now and Jack was talking to them about how they were going to fight back against the Others. Charlie was only half listening to the speech; the other half of his mind occupied with what possible reason there could be for Desmond lying to him.

The way he figured it, all he had to do was wait Desmond out. He'd get Hurley and Claire to help him keep an eye on Des and sooner or later Des would crack under the pressure and tell him what he'd seen.

A tree suddenly exploded into a ball of flames several hundred yards away from where everyone was standing, and Charlie jumped back, startled from his thoughts. Jack spoke up again saying that they were going to "blow them all to hell".

Charlie shook his head and berated himself. He was _seriously_ going to have to get Hurley to tell him what the devil was going on.

lostlostlost

The sound of a clearing throat suddenly intruded into the conversation he was having with Claire, and Charlie looked up to see Desmond standing over them with a look of concern on his face.

"Can I talk to you a moment, Charlie?"

Claire, suspicious of what this might all be about, quickly answered in Charlie's place. "Yes, you can. And you can talk to me, too."

A pained look came over Desmond and he closed his eyes momentarily. "I would rather talk to Charlie first. He can tell you all about it later."

Claire turned to Charlie with a frown, but Charlie said nothing and nodded in acceptance. He and Desmond walked off to the edge of the camp and sat down against a tree.

For several long moments, Desmond was quiet as if he were trying to muster up the courage to say what was on his mind. Charlie knew damn well enough what this was going to be about and when the scotsman finally opened his mouth Charlie wasn't surprised at all at what came out of it.

"You were right Charlie. I did have another vision back there." A pause. "I lied to you because I just couldn't bring myself to talk about it yet."

Charlie waited patiently for Desmond to continue. This was the first time that Desmond was willingly making Charlie aware of one of his visions before it actually came to pass, and he got the distinct feeling that this one was more serious than the previous ones had been.

"I saw Claire and Aaron getting aboard a helicopter and leaving the island."

Desmond turned now and looked at Charlie full on, but he didn't say anything. Apparently he wanted Charlie to respond to this.

Charlie shook his head in confusion. "I don't understand. I thought you were going to tell me something about….you know….the Others. If Claire and Aaron are leaving this bloody place then, that's good. Why the depressing air?"

"You're in an underwater station," Desmond began. "There's a blinking yellow light. You flip it off…." His voice trailed off for a few beats before he picked it back up. "I saw Mikhail." He kept his eyes on Charlie, attempting to gage a reaction. "He tries to stop you…. You have a spear gun…. There's water, and….he drowns."

Desmond lowered his eyes, turned away from Charlie and clasped his hands across his knees. He idly took to watching his feet as he flexed them up and down in the sand. He could feel Charlie's gaze boring into him.

"So….apparently….I kill him?"

Desmond sighed. "I'm pretty sure, yeah."

"I see."

An interminably long silence stretched out between them. Charlie wasn't sure exactly what to say. Apparently, Desmond was not only telling him play-by-play what was going to happen, he was also telling him he wasn't going to stop him. The only reason he could think of for this was because it involved Claire. The thought of Claire and Aaron being whisked away to somewhere that was a whole lot safer than here had apparently gotten them bumped up to top priority status; far above his concerns over Charlie becoming some poor, twisted wreck of a killer at the hands of the dark, evil forces that were suppposedly toying with him.

"I'd like to come with you."

The statement was made quietly, softly even, and Charlie couldn't bring himself to refuse. "Sure, sure," he answered, reaching over to place a reassuring hand on Desmond's forearm. "We'll do this one together. Who knows? Maybe the whole point of all this was to bring me to this end where Patchy bites the big one and Claire gets to go home. Hell, maybe your visions will even stop after this one."

Desmond fought back against a sudden rising tide of emotions. Charlie had no idea how desperately he wanted that last statement to come true.

"C'mon," Charlie said, standing up. "Let's go see what the others are talking about. Maybe we can figure out how to work our way into their plan."

He offered Des his hand. Des took it, and Charlie hauled him upright and the two of them made their way back into the camp.

They sauntered over to a makeshift table where Jack, Sayid and Juliet were having a seemingly intense discussion. Sayid was shaking his head and saying that since the underwater station was flooded, there was no possible way that anyone could hold their breath long enough to remain alive to swim down, unjam the signal, and swim back up again.

Charlie cleared his throat in a obvious, and noisy, way. "I can."

The three looked up at him with questions in their eyes.

"I _can!_" he protested. "I was the junior swim champ back in northern England. I can hold my breath for four minutes. I can go down there, flip your switchy thing and come back up. No problem."

Jack and Sayid exchanged glances. "No," Jack said curtly.

Charlie managed to hold his tongue in check. He began working on putting another response together and didn't notice that Sayid had apparently made a different decision of his own.

"Perhaps we should not write this off so quickly," the Iraqi said. "If there is a chance this could work – "

"No," Jack said again, shortly, cutting him off. "For the last ninety days everyone has been asking me to make decisions for them." He threw his pad and pencil down onto the table. "There. I just made one." He got up and walked away without further comment.

Sayid looked at Charlie and gave him an apologetic shrug. Then he and Juliet picked up their maps and other papers and headed off as well.

Charlie watched the three of them leave, his heart rapidly sinking down into his stomach. This was now no longer about him whacking off the Others. This was about getting Claire and Aaron off the island. As he watched his three friends walk away from him, he felt as though he was watching his only chance to fulfill Desmond's vision walk away from him too.

lostlostlost

Sayid leaned across the table and leveled his best steady gaze at Jack. "You realize this is all well and good but we still need someone to go down to the station and unjam the signal. Otherwise, your trek to the radio tower will have been an utter waste of time."

Jack sighed, his shoulders and constitution sagging under the weight of all the different phases of the plan they'd cobbled together. There was no way he was going to be able to get out of this, he knew. Sayid was right.

And he hated it when Sayid was right.

He crossed his arms on the tabletop and allowed his head to lower down onto them. His neck really hurt, he realized.

"Do you know where Charlie is?" he asked, his voice bouncing, muffled, off the table.

"Actually, I'm right here," came a familiar British accent.

Jack shoved himself back up off the table into a straight sitting postion. He eyed Charlie with concern before he asked him the question.

"Are you still game to go down there and find the switch?"

Charlie smiled. "You bet I am!"

lostlostlost

Charlie eyed his friend with nothing less than his most deeply felt sympathy.

"Hurley…..you're too………….big," he finally finished. Yes, it was an unfortunate choice of words, but at the moment he was at a loss for a kinder synonym and he didn't have a thesaurus handy. "You just…..won't…..fit in the canoe."

Hurley sniffled a bit and Charlie was almost certain he saw his friend's eyes take on a watery sheen.

"Dude, that was not cool."

The big guy turned away, obviously hurt that he'd been rejected.

Charlie frowned and went after his friend. He wasn't sure what Hurley was thinking, but this wasn't some adventure that he and Desmond were embarking on. This was serious business.

"Hurley, c'mon, I'm _sorry_." He kept his hand on Hurley's shoulder, slowing him down until Hurley finally stopped and turned around. Charlie immediately threw his arms around him and hugged him fiercely. "I don't know what else to say, man, this is a two person job."

Hurley hugged him back and said, fine, he didn't really need to go with them anyhow.

Charlie stood back to get a last good look at his friend. "You know I'll see you on the flip side, yeah? I love ya, man."

Hurley's expression twisted into an ever so slightly pink shade of embarrassment at that remark. He shrugged. "Yeah, I love ya too. Whatever."

Charlie and Desmond dragged the boat along with them down the shore. After what seemed like an eternity, they found the cable that ran from the jungle down into the ocean's depths. They pushed the boat into the water and they were off.

The gentle sound of the water swishing against the paddles as Desmond moved them back and forth was the only sound to break the silence that seemed to reign over the journey out to where the cable finally dropped off altogether. Each man was lost in his own thoughts regarding the events that were about to unfold. Events that neither one of them would be able to avoid this time.

Desmond pulled the oars out of the water and laid them in the space separating him and Charlie.

"Well, I guess this is where we get off," Desmond said.

Charlie was staring rather absently down at the oars and Desmond wondered if Charlie had heard him. Charlie reached down to pick up an oar and laid it across his lap and began rolling it back and forth.

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"So, which one of us wants to go first?" Desmond asked, aware of how ridiculous this was becoming. It was as if they were trying to stall for some extra time to pull themselves together. For his own part, Desmond just wanted to get it all over with as quickly as possible so he could get back to the beach and drink himself into a forgetful stupor.

Charlie stopped rolling the oar and looked at him. "You go first. Since I'm the one that can hold his breath the longest it would be best for me to stay behind you and keep an eye on you."

Desmond shrugged. "Fine with me." He stood up and turned around, feeling the boat rock slightly as Charlie followed suit.

"I'm sorry, brother," he heard Charlie say behind him.

Immediately, a warning feeling sparked within him but there was no time for him to react. He heard a swoosh of air and then the oar connected with the side of his head and he went down.

Charlie bent down over Desmond's unmoving form.

"I'm sorry, Dessy. I really am. I'm glad you came with me this far, but I can't risk you getting hurt. After all, you didn't see yourself in your vision, now did you? Penny would never forgive me if something happened to you." He patted Desmond's shoulder. "You just take a nice nap. I'll see you when I get back."

He picked up the rock weights that Desmond had fashioned for the two of them and jumped into the water. He didn't sink quite as fast as he would have liked and by the time he came to the top of the station he was fighting the urge to open his mouth to inhale.

He scaled down the side of the station and dove underneath. He only swam a few strokes more and then he saw the opening for the moon pool.

He flung himself up out of the water and gulped in deep breaths of musty air. "Thank heavens!" he exclaimed. "Whew!" He swam over to a ladder and climbed up it. Throwing himself onto the floor, he turned over and lay on his back, and worked on slowing his breathing, and his nerves down. "It's not flooded!" he exclaimed, laughing, to no one. "It's not flooded!"

The floor began to vibrate, which he thought was a bit odd, and then the sound of twanging metal and footsteps was heard.

_Mikhail!_

Charlie pushed himself up off the floor and into a crouching position. But the face he found himself looking up into did not belong to Mikhail. Actually, he was looking into two faces. The faces of two women.

And one of them was pointing a gun at him.

"Who the hell are _you_?" she yelled.

* * *

TTFN, Nori


	8. Chapter 8

The disclaimer is posted in Chapter One.  
xxx

_(Through The Looking Glass)_

Chapter Eight

In the past, there had been times when Charlie had decided to go it alone, for whatever reason, and had ended up mentally kicking and berating himself for having done so.

As it turned out, the situation he currently found himself in was another one of those times.

Why, oh why, did he knock Desmond out and leave him back in the boat? He should have left him come along. Then the two of them could have commiserated in between face slaps.

Bonnie swept her hand back and cracked him a good shot.

_"Why are you here?"_ she half yelled, half growled at him for the umpteenth time.

Charlie spat blood out of his mouth, right at Bonnie's feet, and grinned. He could only imagine how ghoulish he might look, flashing his now red-stained teeth.

"I told you. I'm a Harbinger of Death. I've come down here to to send you all packing to the Great Beyond."

Bonnie hauled her arm back – the arm that was holding the gun this time – and made ready to hit him with it. Greta grabbed her arm on the downswing, stopping her in mid-air.

"Bonnie, stop! Can't we just call Ben?' she asked, in a slightly whiny voice, tinged with a hint of panic.

Charlie's ears perked up. It was time to come clean. "Yeah! Yeah! Call Ben! In fact, if you give me your word that you'll call Ben, I'll tell you the truth of why I'm here."

Bonnie's expression shifted from anger to suspicion and she lowered the gun-toting arm the whole way. She wasn't necessarily buying it, but if it managed to get him to tell her a story other than the crap he'd been feeding them, then she was game for giving it a try.

"Fine. You have my word. Spill."

"Your buddy Juliet has turned on you," Charlie began. "She's one of us now. She told us where to find the Looking Glass. I've been sent down here to turn off the jamming signal so we can contact the boat that's sitting offshore." Among other things.

Bonnie brought the gun back up and leveled it at Charlie's eyes. "You're lying."

Charlie smirked. "Am I?"

"There is no jamming signal."

"Really? Did Ben tell you that?"

Bonnie's face was suddenly a myriad of conflicting emotions. Was this guy really telling the truth? Would Juliet really betray them? Bonnie grabbed Greta's arm and pulled her into the comm room.

For some insane reason, she left the door open and Charlie could hear everything she was saying. This was too much of an opportunity for him, and he found that, once again, he couldn't keep his mouth as tightly shut as he probably ought to.

"Tell Ben Charlie says 'Hi'!" he yelled. "Tell him I'm having a lovely time with you ladies and I wish he'd come join us!"

"Shut up!" Greta hissed, and Charlie turned back to the water with a grin on his face.

After several more minutes, the two women came back out to him again. He gave them his most pleasant smile and informed them that it didn't matter that they called Ben. He was going to turn off the jamming signal so they could contact their rescuers.

Bonnie shot him a smirk in reply, and formulated a question that she would be interested in seeing his reaction to. "And I suppose you have the code that needs to be punched in to make the signal shut off?" she asked casually. There were only three people on the island that knew what the code was. And since Juliet wasn't one of them, there was no way she could have given him the code.

Charlie didn't waver one bit. "Not yet," he said. "But I'm sure it'll come to me eventually."

lostlostlost

Ever so slowly, the blackness receded and gave way to light. A little at first, it encroached upon the outer edges of his senses, slowly creeping inward, filling up his insides and chasing away the groggy, heavy feeling that had settled inside his head, and limbs. In the end, though, having apparently decided that it had treated him gently enough for now and it was time to get a move on, the sun suddenly assaulted his being. It battered him with bright, golden light; pulling at him, coaxing him. _"Come to me"_, it seemed to say, _"come up here where it's warm."_

All at once Desmond's perception cleared, his eyes flew open and he shreiked, "Gah!" at the burning sensation of the sun drawing a bead on his pupils. He flung a forearm over his head and rocked back and forth on his side, trying to turn completely over so he could right himself.

Drawing himself up into a kneeling position, he began to rub at his poor, throbbing head – the side which Charlie had cracked him on – and uttered a few choice curse words that he sincerely hoped would tail Charlie the rest of his life to the point of following him to his grave.

On wobbly legs, he stood up and sighed. There was nothing in front of him but a vast expanse of ocean and, somewhere in the depths under the surface, the station. He turned around and surveyed the outrigger. Both oars were still in the canoe, but there were no more rocks. Charlie had taken the lot of them in an attempt, he guessed, to further stymie his decision to follow Charlie down into the station.

His lips thinned out in a grim line and he knelt back down at the edge of the canoe and peered over the edge into the water.

_Charlie, where are you? What the hell were you thinking?_

Desmond closed his eyes and turned his thoughts inward, searching for something that might give him a clue as to how Charlie might be doing, or how he might end up faring, being down there all by himself. But nothing came to him and he realized he should have known better. The flashes he saw only came when they felt like it and no amount of willing them to appear would cause them to come any sooner.

Desmond began to breathe slowly in and slowly out. Contracting and expanding his lungs beforehand would allow him to take as deep a breath as possible when he came to a point where he felt he was ready to jump in.

Funny thing, that.

Gunfire erupted from the direction of the beach and a bullet went whizzing past his shoulder followed closely by another one that chipped the outrigger very close to where his hand was resting on the edge.

Desmond sucked in a huge lungful of air and dove headfirst into the water.

Apparently, it was time to jump in now.

lostlostlost

He could see how the gentle rippling of the water could lull one into a false sense of security. The interior lighting played across the surface of the moon pool, illuminating the movement of the current. It was mesmerizing and Charlie found himself thinking that the only thing missing was one of those relaxation tapes that contained the soothing sound of a babbling brook. He actually felt himself begin to nod off and he jerked himself upright and decided that maybe he needed to shift his gaze somewhere else.

The surface suddenly erupted into a spray and Charlie instinctively lurched backward into his chair. His eyes wide, he stared fiercely at the water trying to discern what, or who, the creature was that had disturbed it.

Desmond bobbed up again and slipped silently forward to where Charlie was sitting. His eyes widened in alarm at the sight of Charlie, beaten, and tied to a chair. "Charlie – " he began, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Quick! Hide!" Charlie hissed, cutting him off. He nodded his head in the direction of the walkway where Bonnie and Greta had come from. "Now!" he finished.

Desmond hauled himself up and walked as quickly and quietly as he could in the direction Charlie had indicated. He managed to duck around the corner, and flatten himself just in time. Two women emerged from a room behind where Charlie was tied. He sunk back into the wall, hoping he would go unnoticed.

He heard their voices now, questioning Charlie as to what was going on. Obviously, they had heard the splashing water, and the sound of Charlie's voice. He risked peering around the corner again and noticed that the two were standing in front of Charlie with their backs toward him. He had to do something, and fast. He made a quick dash across the way, and took the time to soundlessly pull open the door of an equipment locker. He crammed himself inside, pulled the door shut, and waited.

"I'm gonna ask you one more time. Who were you talking to?"

Charlie gave Bonnie his best exasperated look. "Fine. I was talking to the ghost of my dear old Aunt Matilda. There. You happy now?"

Bonnie clenched her fists, a scalding look appearing on her face. "Okay, that's it. I am so done with this." She turned around and began heading right for the locker that Charlie had watched Desmond stuff himself into.

Charlie's chest tightened in panic. This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen. He had to stop Bonnie and keep Des out of harm's way. But before he had a chance to open his mouth, another spray of water erupted from the surface of the moon pool. Greta yelped in fear and Bonnie stopped in her tracks, turned around, and came back to stand at the edge. She raised her gun, and held it steady on the new interloper as he swam forward to meet them.

Apparently unperturbed by the gun being pointed at him, the swimmer came right over to the edge of the moon pool at Bonnie's feet. He took off the breathing mask of his scuba gear and deposited it on the deck. A look of relief washed over Bonnie's face and she lowered the gun, and stepped back out of the way. The man hoisted himself up onto the deck and Charlie smiled. From where he was watching in the locker, Desmond felt his stomach twist into a knot.

The new addition to their little group was Mikhail.

He unstrapped his oxygen tank and let it drop casually onto the deck. Then, he turned his gaze on Bonnie and Greta. "I thought you two were in Canada."

Bonnie and Greta exchanged glances, hesitating for a moment. Bonnie looked back at Mikhail. "Ben told us to lie about where we were."

The russian's gaze narrowed. "I see." He shifted his line of sight to Charlie as if to indicate that Charlie was now worth paying attention to. He pulled out a knife and advanced on Charlie. Inside the locker, Desmond tightened the grip he had on the spear gun he'd pulled off the hook.

Mikhail's mouth curled in a cruel smirk. "We meet again."

Charlie met his eyes, unflinching. "Yes, we really should stop meeting like this. Actually, after today, we won't be running into each other any more."

If Mikhail was confused at all by Charlie's statement, he didn't let on. "Why are you down here?" he asked.

Charlie nodded his head in the direction of the comm room. "I've come down here to unjam the signal you folks are sending out."

Mikhail's expression changed to one of puzzlement. "A jamming signal?" He turned to regard Bonnie and Greta.

Charlie decided to save them the trouble. "Oh, yeah. You mean they didn't tell you? Ben has these lovely ladies down here riding shotgun on your jamming equipment." He made a tsk-ing sound. "They really don't tell you much, do they?"

Mikhail turned angrily on Charlie. "Shut up!" He turned back to Bonnie and Greta. "Is this true?" In tandem, they nodded their heads. Mikhail was quiet for a bit while he considered things. "I need to check in with Ben; let him know I've arrived safely."

The russian stalked off to the comm room leaving the other three occupants in an uncomfortable silence. Charlie stared in a vacant sort of way at the locker Des was trapped in. The ropes around his wrist were digging in quite nicely and he was beginning to experience some loss of feeling in his fingers. He looked back up at the two women. "You know, it doesn't matter what any of you do. You can call Ben all you want. You can point all the weapons at me that you want. It won't matter. I will be going in there to switch off that little yellow light. It's only a matter of time. Then the rescue boats will come, and we'll finally get off this rotting island."

The two women looked at each other, Bonnie chewing on her lower lip pensively. Unlike the rest of her fellow Others who lived up topside, she had no previous experience with any of the castaways. This man sure was certain of himself in spite of the fact that he was hopelessly outnumbered. She wondered what he knew that they didn't that allowed him to act so overconfidant about his situation

Greta opened her mouth to speak finally, but was cut off before saying anything by Mikhail, who abruptly came walking back into the room.

"Who knows the code to the jamming signal?" he asked the two.

"Only Greta and me."

"Ben told us that this station was flooded," Mikhail said. There was a hint of anger in his voice. "If this station _were_ to become flooded, would the signal still operate?"

Bonnie nodded her head slowly, unsure of why he would ask such a question. "The casing surrounding it is waterproof."

"Hmmmm. I see." His expression turned dark, and before anyone knew what was happening, he had pulled out a gun and shot Greta. Bonnie turned on her heel to flee, and the russian shot her in the back. She fell hard to the deck, pulled herself forward a little way, and then began to struggle to get back on her feet. Mikhail walked forward after her, gun in front, drawing a bead on her.

The weapons locker burst open and Desmond jumped out, bringing the spear gun up to bear. He shot Mikhail square in the chest and the russian went down with a thud, the gun falling from his hand and clattering uselessly onto the deck.

Desmond ran over to Charlie and began working at the knots in the rope to free him. When he'd gotten him loose, he went back over to the fallen women, checking first on Greta. She was already dead. He and Charlie then went over to Bonnie and turned her over. She was growing pale and Des wasn't sure how much more time she had left in her. He propped her up against one of the metal support columns.

Charlie's expression softened as he looked at her and said, "You know that it was Ben who told Mikhail to turn on you." He studied her to see if she showed any signs of yielding. "Ben doesn't give a bloody damn about any of you. You're all just expendable to him as long as the end suits his needs." The look in her eyes suggested to him that she was mulling over what he'd said. "I'm sorry it's too late for you to get off this rock and back into the real world. But you can help us. I'm asking you help us." He spoke to her now in a gentle, compassionate tone, certain that he was gaining the ground he needed to convince her to acquiesce. "Please give me the code. We only want to go home. That's all we've ever wanted since we crashed here. Help us, Bonnie."

Tears stung Bonnie's eyes and she struggled to take in a breath. She began rattling off a series of numbers, and Charlie tried desperately to follow them, but they came too quick in succession for him to follow by memory only. He pulled his Sharpie pen from his pocket and tried to pick up the string of numbers that she was giving him, hoping that he could backtrack and remember what the first series of numbers were.

Her voice failed, though, and she stopped talking. Charlie looked at her in alarm and saw that the life was draining from her now, she couldn't hold on any longer. She coughed and then tried to speak once more.

"It's Good Vibrations," she said.

Charlie looked at her confused. "It's what?"

"Good Vibrations," she repeated, her voice fading to a hoarse whisper. Charlie strained to hear her. "The Beach Boys song. The code was programmed by a musician. Just punch the notes in on the keypad."

Charlie closed his eyes and nodded, relief washing over him. "Thank you, Bonnie."

But Bonnie didn't reply. Charlie looked at Des and the scotsman swallowed, laid his hands over Bonnie's eyes and closed them for her.

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Charlie stood over the keypad, his fingers poised to punch in the notes from the song. First, though, he had to jog his memory by humming it to himself to make sure he remembered the chorus.

Tap, tap, tap. Charlie punched the keys that corresponded with the proper notes. When he got to the end of the chorus, he looked up at the blinking yellow light. It had gone out. Charlie grinned to himself. _Just like that._

He walked over to the doorway of the comm room. "Hey, Des," he yelled, "you gettin' that scuba gear?"

The scotsman looked across the way at him and nodded. "Yeah. The light?"

Charlie grinned again. "It's gone. We're in the all clear."

Desmond smiled back. "Good. I'm almost ready." He turned back to the equipment locker he was sorting through.

Charlie went back inside the room just to make sure that there wasn't anything he was missing to do. But the equipment just sat there, looking at him, and he wasn't sure if he should try to mess around with it by starting to press random buttons.

The thought had no sooner crossed his mind when the screen suddenly began to flicker and it burst into life with a noisy, snowy pattern. Charlie's eyes widened to the size of saucers when a female voice began to speak.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" she asked.

Charlie grabbed the chair and pulled it toward him so he could sit down in it.

"Hello?" she asked again. The picture was starting to clear up now and the snowy noise was dying down. Charlie could see enough to know that it was a pretty woman with long, blonde hair talking to him.

"Yes, hello," he said back. "This is Charlie. I'm a survivor of Oceanic Flight 815." The screen abruptly fuzzed out again and Charlie panicked. "Hello?" he said, tapping on the monitor as though, somehow, that should help things. "Are you still with me?"

The monitor cleared up then and Charlie could finally see her plainly. "I'm one of the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815," he repeated. "We crashed on an island. But I can't tell you where. I don't know the coordinates."

"What did you say your name was again?"

"Charlie," he replied. There was something awfully familiar about this woman he was speaking to but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Well, Charlie, I'm Penny. How is it that you've managed to get this frequency?"

"Wait a minute," Charlie said, totally skipping over her question. "I know you! Your Desmond's girl! That's why you seem so familiar! He's got a picture of you he carries around."

"Desmond…." Penny said, her voice trailing off. She seemed to go off somewhere in her mind for a moment before snapping back to reality. "Desmond's there? Where? Can I speak to him?"

"Sure!" Charlie exclaimed. He jumped up off the chair and took a few steps forward toward the doorway. It was enough to get him just close enough that he could project his voice out into the chamber. "Desmond!" he yelled. "You've got to come in here and see this! Quick! C'mon!"

He got back into the chair and began talking again. "I can't wait to see Desmond's face when he sees you! I think it's really great that you've come to rescue us!"

The look on Penny's face did a complete one-eighty. "Rescue?" she asked. The previous look of elation at the news of Desmond being there had faded and was replaced by one of puzzlement. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Charlie's face now mirrored Penny's. "The boat," he said, not quite understanding what she was trying to say. "You know, the girl you sent. Oh, what's her name…." He stopped to rack his brain. Why did he have to blank out on her name now, of all times? "Oh, wait," he said, as it came back within his reach. "Naomi. Yeah, that's it. Naomi."

Penny was now shaking her head in open confusion. "Charlie….. I don't know any Naomi. I don't know anything about a boat."

The sound of something crashing, and clattering to the ground brought the conversation to a halt. There was silence, followed by a thud, and Charlie was back up out of the chair and heading for the doorway leaving Penny abandoned behind him. As soon as his foot passed the frame, a fist connected with his jaw sending him flying backward onto the decking.

Pain shot through him and he lay still with his eyes closed as he struggled to work his way clear of it. In the comm room the faint sound of a voice came to him and he wondered if Penny was talking to herself or if he was imagining things. Charlie turned his mind to the painful task of hauling himself back up into a standing position. He rolled over onto his stomach and his gaze automatically traveled to where Desmond was. The scuba gear that the scotsman had been collecting and assembling was lying on the deck.

And so was Desmond.

But that wasn't the thing that sent the chill traveling through his veins. Mikhail was _not_ on the deck, lying where he fell when Des shot him.

Charlie got up on shaky knees and forced himself to stand upright. He realized now that it must have been Mikhail talking in the comm room. And now he was destroying the equipment, judging by the crashing sounds and the crackling sounds of electricity being discharged. He squeezed his eyes shut again and willed his focus to come back to him. His blood boiled within him at the two thoughts that passed, unbidden, through his mind. First, Desmond may be dead. Second, Mikhail had just destroyed their first communication with someone from the outside world. He bolted from where he was standing and made a mad dash for the equipment locker. He had only seconds to spare and not many at that. He began grabbing at the items in the locker and throwing them onto the floor. There had to be another spear gun in here somewhere. He found one, preloaded like the one Desmond had used, and he jumped clear of the locker and turned around.

Mikhail was now coming toward him in long strides. He wasn't even slowing down at all. His shirt was covered in blood and there was a ragged hole right over where the spear had entered his chest. There was an unholy look on his face, and Charlie wrapped his finger around the gun's trigger. As much as he would have liked to engage in a debate with himself as to how it was possible that Mikhail was up and walking, he didn't have the time right now.

Mikhail suddenly stopped and pulled his gun from the waistband of his pants. Charlie depressed the trigger on the spear gun and the spear flew away and hit Mikhail square in the chest. The russian yelled, went down on his back and folded up, rolling over onto his side.

Charlie dropped the speargun and ran over to Mikhail. Mikhail's hand was wrapped around the spear as though he was going to pull it from his chest, and Charlie was damned if he was going to give him the opportunity. Charlie grabbed ahold of his clothing and dragged him to the edge of the decking and pushed him over into the water. He held onto Mikhail's shirt and shoved him under. Mikhail struggled weakly and Charlie broke out into a slight sweat at the amount of energy he was exerting.

Or maybe that wasn't the whole of it.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, there was a vague thread of memory that was surfacing regarding the manner in which Desmond had told him Mikhail would die. He tried not to think about how long it would take a person to drown.

After what had to have been the longest five minutes of his life, Charlie released his grip on Mikhail's shirt. The body began to drift away as it wasn't being held in place anymore. Charlie scooted back away from the edge and got up. He walked over to Desmond who was struggling to right himself. He was half on his side with an arm underneath him, trying to push himself up. His other arm was wrapped around his stomach and Charlie could guess that Mikhail had probably punched him in the stomach before he'd clocked him and knocked him out. He knelt down next to Desmond and felt at Desmond's neck for a pulse. He had no medical experience of any kind but he thought that Des's pulse wasn't moving too fast, or too slow, so he was going to be okay.

Charlie grabbed him under his arms and helped to pull him up into a half standing position. Desmond stumbled along over to the wall and Charlie helped him to sit down with his back resting against it. For a long time the two of them sat in silence, each contemplating the events that had unfolded down here, and knowing that the other was doing the same.

Finally, Desmond spoke first. "I think I'll be okay now. We should be getting back to the surface."

Charlie pulled himself out of his own particular reverie and pulled his sharpie pen from his jeans pocket. He reached over and took one of Desmond's hands in his own. He turned Des's hand over and began writing on the palm. Desmond watched him with a detached sense of curiosity. Whatever Charlie was writing, he was taking great care with it. He made the strokes slowly, and solidly and it looked like he was capitalizing all the letters.

"Um, Charlie, what are you doing?" he asked.

Charlie smiled and continued writing as he answered Desmond's question . "You're in no condition to be rowing us back to shore so I'll do it. Since my hands are going to be palming the oars, I can't write the message on my own hand. And we really need to remember to tell Sayid and Sawyer this when we get back to camp."

Charlie finished making the last stroke of the last letter and he let go of Desmond's hand. Desmond stared at it, reading the three words but he couldn't understand the implication behind it, which only stood to reason since he'd missed out on the conversation Charlie had had with his girlfriend.

Desmond held the hand up directly in front of his face and read it again.

It said - NOT PENNY'S BOAT.

* * *

TTFN, Nori


	9. Chapter 9

The disclaimer is posted in Chapter One.  
xxx

_(The Beginning of the End)_

Epilogue

Charlie decided that since they had the canoe, it would be easier to just row back to the camp as opposed to dragging it down the beach. He spoke as he rowed, filling Desmond in on the conversation he'd had with Penny in the comm room. He was rowing at a nice clip, trying to get back to the camp as quickly as possible to relay the message.

Desmond listened carefully to everything Charlie told him while he stared at the message Charlie had written on his hand. After Charlie was done, and they still had a stretch of ocean to cover, he began going back over the events of the past few days while a sinking feeling settled itself into the pit of his stomach.

The Others had kept trying to infiltrate their camp. Naomi was a bald-faced liar. The people on the boat were quite possibly not here to rescue them.

_You're going to want to try to prevent him from killing the Others, Desmond. But you musn't. The universe has a purpose for Charlie._

The sun was hot and the ocean air was warm, but Desmond shivered involuntarily as a chill coursed through him at the words he remembered the ring lady speaking. It was all suddenly so very clear to him as his thoughts turned to the first conversation he and Charlie had had after he'd told Charlie about the visions, and what Claire had said to him the day he'd gone after the seagull. It was as if a fog had suddenly lifted giving him a clear view of what was in front of him.

A theory was now working it's way up into the forefront of his mind and he sifted back through the encounters he'd seen Charlie have with the Others in his visions, the encounters he himself had had with the Others, and the new information they'd received from Penny.

His visions had always been spotty at best, bordering on incomplete, with him guessing mostly as to how to fill in the missing pieces so he could try to flesh out an overall picture. Taking that into consideration, he was beginning to see a pattern emerge. He realized that he had probably misread the visions, and now might just have an understanding of what the universe was trying to do with Charlie. As for why he'd been saddled with these visions, well, most likely it was just a total fluke.

"Desmond. Dessy! Oi, Des? Are you okay?"

Desmond sighed and looked up to make eye contact with Charlie. "Aye. I'm alright. I guess."

Charlie grinned. "Well, you've got me a bit worried there. You best put your game face on, mate. Hurley's jumping up and down and waving his arms like a bloody damn idiot."

As they got closer to the beach, they could hear Hurley yelling at them. Sayid, Sawyer, and Bernard were waving at them and Charlie turned the outrigger and brought them in for a smooth landing on the sand.

Or, at least, it would have been a smooth landing if Hurley hadn't decided at the very last second to cannonball into the water right in front of them and splash them all up with water.

He came up out of the water laughing his head off while a partially soaked Desmond and Charlie were pulled up onto the shore by Sayid and Sawyer.

Although Charlie was in a mood to be taking Hurley's shenanigans lightly enough, Desmond was in no such mood and he launched right into giving Sayid and Sawyer the bad news.

"The people who've come here to rescue us are not who they say they are." He only paused a moment to register the falling expressions on Sayid's and Sawyer's faces before plunging back in again. "Charlie somehow managed to come in contact with Penny while he was in the comm room of the station. The boat isn't hers. The people aren't hers. She doesn't know a damn thing about this so-called rescue operation."

The silence was deafening as everyone exchanged worried glances. There was no need for anyone to be asking what their fellow castaways were thinking because it was pretty much a given that they were all thinking the same thing.

Sawyer hoisted the walkie he was still in possession of. "We'll call Jack and tell him."

"No!" Sayid cut in. "I can guarantee you that they're monitoring every frequency they can. They'll hear anything we say."

"Well, we can't just let Jack walk blind into whatever the hell's goin' on! Piss on 'em! I'll give 'em a damn earful about what – "

The walkie suddenly and violently detached itself from Sawyer's hand, courtesy of Hurley, and found itself being flung into the ocean.

"Standing around here arguing isn't going to help Jack," Hurley said. "Let's move!"

And with that, the conversation was over.

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The trek to the rendezvous point passed uneventfully enough in spite of the spooky ambience that seemed to permeate the forest surrounding them. At one point, Hurley noticed that they were walking parallel to a line of grey ash, and his and Charlie's out-loud musings over what it might be prompted Desmond to inform them, rather vehemently, that they were absolutely _not_ wandering off to go exploring.

They ran into Locke a little farther down the line and spent a nice little block of time listening to Sayid argue with him over why he blew the submarine up, and what else he might have done between then and now to further prevent them from escaping this nightmare of an island.

During the course of the trek, Desmond spoke to Charlie in hushed tones about what he'd been thinking since the trip back from the Looking Glass. He, Charlie, and Hurley fell behind the rest of their group, just enough to be out of earshot, but not enough to lose sight of them.

"Charlie, I don't think you're going to be dealing exclusively with the Others anymore," he said. "Or, maybe you won't be dealing with the Others at all anymore."

Charlie looked at him curiously. "Oh. You've had another vision."

Des hesitated a moment before he continued. "Actually, no. I'm not sure whether I'm going to be seeing any flashes of anything anymore." He paused and a thoughtful look passed over his face as he considered how he wanted to phrase his next few sentences. Charlie remained silent and waited for Desmond to pick the conversation back up.

"Charlie…..I was wrong. But that's not the half of it. You were wrong, too. In fact, we were all wrong, actually. This isn't about ridding ourselves of the Others for the simple fact that we feel threatened by them, or because the universe wants you to rid the island of them for its own particular reasons." He paused again then and took a breath as if he needed to prepare himself for his next statement. "Charlie, I think I've finally figured out what the universe has been doing with you."

Charlie looked up to meet Desmond's gaze full-on and Des gave him a grim smile. Charlie wasn't sure what Des was going to say but he felt that he probably ought to brace himself for it.

"Charlie, I think the universe was trying to train you, and the only way it knew how was to use the Others."

Charlie's brow furrowed in confusion. "Okay, wait a minute. Train me? I'm not following you."

"I spent some time in the armed forces, Charlie. The initial training period is called boot camp. When you go through this period, they train you for all possible situations that you might meet in a combat situation. Including how to kill. You go through this particular course, and these dummies pop out in front of you. You have to shoot them and they keep track of how many you miss, how many you hit, where your bullet hit so they can determine how much damage you did. The point being that if you hit a vital organ, you'd likely kill your target. If not, then your target might live." He stopped and shook his head. "I know I'm probably not explaining this very well. And honestly, I think that Sayid would do a much better job. After all, he actually served in his country's army for quite a while, and it was during the war, too. I'm afraid my stint was much less, um, noteworthy. Anyway, what I'm trying to get at, Charlie, is this. There is no military installation on this island. There are no military personnel here to train you. The universe was deliberately putting you in situations with the Others so you'd feel threatened enough to take physical action against them. Even to the point of killing them if need be. I think it was the only thing it knew to do to try to…..harden you……to prepare you for what it knew was coming."

He sighed and stopped speaking because the next part of his theory was the part he was dreading to tell. Charlie sensed this and he took advantage of the momentary opening to offer a statement that Desmond did – and didn't – want him to give voice to. "You think there's a war coming to the island."

Desmond nodded. "Aye. I think so. Judging by the reaction we saw in Mikhail down in the station, and the way he acted, I don't think the Others want these people to come here. And I honestly think there's more to it than they just don't want us to leave the island and go home. I've got a bad feeling about this, Charlie. I think these people might be hostile to the Others. If they didn't come here to rescue us, then…… I think it's possible that they might have come here to attack the Others. Or maybe to take the Others off the island. And you and I both know that the Others are not going to go willingly."

Leaves and undergrowth crunched underfoot as the three men walked along the trail, the conversation falling into silence. Desmond hadn't really intended to say any more, he'd pretty much summed up what he felt and it would be up to Charlie and Hurley to decide whether or not they felt he was crazy. But his thoughts strayed and he went back to his short trip through the time stream and before he knew it he was speaking out loud again.

"Ms. Hawkings was trying to warn me…." he said, his voice trailing off at the end.

Charlie looked over at him. "What? Who's Ms. Hawkings?"

Desmond shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "The ring lady."

"Oh."

"I don't think my visions had anything to do with anything after all, really. I think it was probably an unfortunate side effect of all the energy that was put out when the hatch imploded. The ring lady was telling me not to interfere." Desmond sighed. "I'm afraid I've mucked things up for you Charlie. I'm not sure now that you're going to be ready to deal with these people when they get here."

Charlie shook his head. "It's all right. It…..was a lot to deal with at the time." It occurred to him that he now knew where his earlier feelings of being cheated came from. Still, he might yet end up on the better side of being prepared if he had someone to work with who was more familiar with combat situations than he was. He looked at Desmond. "Maybe we should tell Sayid….."

Desmond nodded in agreement and Hurley, who had remained silent, finally decided to speak because there was one question that he hadn't heard Desmond or Charlie bring up.

"So, exactly why did the universe pick Charlie for this? Why not just pick Sayid? Or even you," he said, looking at Desmond. "You said you were enlisted at one point."

Desmond opened his mouth to say that he hadn't a clue, but Charlie spoke up with an answer of his own.

"Ethan," he said simply. "It's because I killed Ethan."

lostlostlost

Having reached the cockpit, they dropped their packs on the ground and settled in to wait for Jack and company to arrive. Desmond found himself fidgeting while he listened to Charlie relate to the assembled group the finer points of what had happened in the Looking Glass.

The forest erupted into a canyon of echoed whispers and everyone jumped up and was immediately on their guard. Relief swept through the little group as their eyes fell on their fellow survivors emerging from the trees and coming into the small clearing to join them.

Claire was at the front of the group and Charlie wasted no time in getting over to her and putting his arm around her to give her a hug. He kissed her lightly on the temple and then steered her out of the crowd and back to where he had been sitting with Desmond and Hurley.

Charlie had intentions of giving Claire the abridged version of his discussion with Desmond so that they would all be on the same page. His intentions were quashed however when the camp suddenly erupted into chaos because Jack attacked Locke. After the two men were pulled apart and the situation was – barely – gotten back under control, a different discussion began between the castaways.

Locke brought up the situation that had been related to him by Sayid, and Desmond found himself reluctantly having to explain the events that had occurred down in the Looking Glass. It wasn't that he wasn't concerned about the coming confrontation. It was more that he simply didn't trust Locke over Jack, regardless of the situation, and it agitated him to realize that he was backing Locke's own particular theories up simply by speaking the truth.

After the explanation was over, Locke launched into his own speech about why everyone should come with him. Jack, of course, argued back and the group of survivors found themselves in the unsavory position of having to make a choice. Would they stay with Jack? Or go with Locke?

Charlie was of a similar mind as Desmond and he stood up to put his two cents in before anyone made any firm decisions. He said that maybe the boat people did come here to do battle with the Others. That didn't necessarily mean that in the end they wouldn't all get off the island anyway like they wanted. He tried to impart a firm tone to his voice in spite of the fact that he couldn't quite bring himself to believe his own words.

The survivors began arguing amongst themeselves again and Charlie turned to Claire.

"I want you to go with Locke."

Claire's mouth fell open. She couldn't believe what Charlie was saying. "You want me to _what_? I will not! I'm staying here with you! If you and Hurley and Desmond are staying then I'll not leave!"

Charlie looked at Desmond seeking support and then continued. "Claire, look….I know what the rest of us have decided. But you must understand. It's different for our end. We don't have a child to look after. You have to take care of Aaron and keep him out of harm's way. Please, Claire. The barracks with Locke is the safest place for him to be right now."

Claire took in all of Charlie's words, her heart falling a bit with each one he spoke. "Charlie….."

Desmond jumped in then and took up the reins. "Claire, we don't know what will happen when these people get here. I hate to say this, but Naomi acted friendly enough in spite of the fact that she was lying to our faces. It's possible that they'll try to talk us into going along with them in whatever plan they've got for the Others. We don't know how dangerous things will get from there. I promise, and so does Charlie, that if this all ends up getting resolved in our favor, we'll come back for you and Aaron and we can all leave together, just like we planned."

Claire turned her gaze from Desmond to Charlie and Charlie gave her a look that indicated he was going to back Desmond up in what he said. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep from bursting into tears, but she finally nodded in agreement with what the two men had decided. Charlie helped her to get up and he walked her over to Locke and explained his and Claire's feelings to him. To his surprise, Locke said that he understood and he wouldn't try to hold Claire against her will if they needed to come back for her.

In the end, Locke ended up with a modest group of followers while Jack retained the majority. Charlie gave Claire and Aaron a kiss and sent them on their way. Hurley volunteered to go with Claire just so Charlie and Desmond would know that someone from their side was making sure she was kept safe. Charlie and Desmond told him they would be forever grateful.

After Locke left, Jack and Kate departed for parts unknown and Charlie and Desmond were left alone to look at each other. Sayid was sitting off to the side engaging in small talk with Bernard and Sun, and Desmond gave Charlie a look that suggested there was never going to be a 'right time' to broach the subject of the last few days so they might as well do it now and get it over with.

They each took a deep breath, got up off their little piece of log, and headed over toward him. "Um, Sayid, can Charlie and I talk to you for a while?"

Sayid looked away from his companions and regarded the two men. It was not lost on him that Desmond had said 'a while' as opposed to 'a moment' or 'a bit'. He turned back to Sun, Jin, Bernard and Rose and excused himself. The three men walked over to the edge of the clearing and sat down under a sturdy, thick-trunked tree.

Charlie and Desmond looked at him and then at each other. Sayid guessed that they were trying to decide how best to tell him whatever the tale was they wanted him to know. There was something different about the way the two were acting with each other. He knew that there had been some tension between them as recently as even a few days ago. And now, it was almost like a fundamental shift had occurred at the foundation of their friendship. Still, he was never one to stand on ceremony, or mince words for that matter, and if they were waiting for him to get the ball rolling then he was more than happy to oblige them. He cleared his throat first. "I take it the two of you have something of an urgent nature to explain to me?"

Desmond sighed and rubbed the palms of his hands on his pants. "There…..has been something rather….unusual that has been going on where Charlie and I are concerned. I don't think this is a situation that either of us should try to handle on our own anymore. It's….been going on for the past few weeks." He paused. "This is going to sound rather…..impossible to you. But we really need you to believe us."

Desmond stopped talking and looked at Charlie and then back at Sayid. Whatever this 'situation' was, it was obvious to Sayid that it had the two of them tied up in knots. Sayid offered Desmond the confirmation he was looking for to continue. "I'm listening," he said. "Take your time. Make sure you don't bypass any important details."

Desmond nodded and looked at Charlie. Then, he took a deep breath and began to tell Sayid the story of what had been taking place over the past three weeks.

"Well…..you see….this all started quite a ways back when the hatch imploded."

finis

* * *

TTFN, Nori


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